


Parfait d'Amour

by BourbonRose



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: F/M, Jogan - Freeform, M/M, Stuart Trio, cpcoulter, daltonbigbang, daltonfic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BourbonRose/pseuds/BourbonRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jogan AU. Inspired by both Moulin Rouge and Rent. (Completely different story, though.)</p><p>After months of traveling through Europe, living on music and love, Logan finally returns to his best friend in New York. There, he discovers that a lot has changed. Instead of the world, Derek dominates the bar in a luxurious nightclub called the Moulin Rouge. When Logan visits him, his eyes immediately fall on the main act, the seductive dancer with the haunting eyes and a smile that glows with the light of a thousand stars. But falling in love comes with a price they both struggle to pay for.</p><p>Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to CP Coulter and her story Dalton. Only Richard and Rajesh are mine. All the chapter titles (except one) are lyrics from songs I listened to while writing, kudos to you if you figure out which songs they’re from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) My name is Rose and I'm participating in the Dalton Big Bang with this fic. For the people who've been around in this fandom for a few years: I've decided to rewrite Loved In Return (which I've deleted from ff.net). 
> 
> My Big Bang Team:
> 
> My wonderful, awesome beta is Judith (thisisdemfae on tumblr) :D
> 
> My amazing, talented artist is Phantom (lionphantom on tumblr) :D
> 
> Enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments :)

_Boom boom boom._

He heard the music even before he could see the club, a beat muffled by doors and walls resonating through the street, the bass nestling somewhere deep in his chest and in his bones. Logan closed his eyes and smiled. It had been a long time since he’d set foot in a club like this, simply because Joshua had never liked these sorts of things. Joshua’s love had gone to the more quiet bars, more bohemian and less wild. More gentle strings on an acoustic guitar, less booming bass that left your heart shaking and your ears ringing. Opening his eyes again, Logan shook his head to try and get rid of the memories.

 _Boom boom boom_.

This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about Joshua (but, really, when was it ever?) so he pushed the memories to a darker place in his mind and picked up his pace. Logan had wondered about this club for a long time now, ever since he’d gotten the card Derek had send to one of his more-or-less-permanent homes a few months ago when he was still in the middle of traveling. He remembered how happy his best friend had looked in the added photograph, standing behind the bar with a brunet on either arm—one a girl with fire in her eyes and curls bouncing from her shoulders, the other a boy with tanned skin and a smile that had glowed for days after on Logan’s retinas. Behind them, shining brightly on the wall with the numerous shelves of liquor, neon letters had spelled out _Moulin Rouge_.

_Boom boom boom._

The same words were shining down on him from above the massive oak door that was the entrance. The beats were louder now, warm and inviting and full of promises. He took a deep breath and let the music lure him in, the same way he always let music lead him, and resolutely pushed the door open.

**_Boom boom boom._ **

Never had the _welcome home_ in New York been so pronounced as now and a wide smile spread across his face. Walking forward, occasionally stepping out of the way of stumbling people drunk with alcohol and bliss, it was only now that he truly felt home.

Tall, blond, confident—Logan could’ve counted down the seconds it would take for his best friend to spot him.

“Logan!”

Both the _M_ and the _R_ were in rough shape now, flickering on and off every couple of seconds, but the rest of the bar was exactly the same as in the picture. Travel-worn as Logan was, it was a comforting thought that some things really did meet expectations once in a while. His piercing gaze dropped from the bar to the person now standing in front of him, looking incredulous and annoyed and happy all at once.

“ _Logan?_ ”

Logan couldn't help but smile, because Derek’s voice was exactly how he’d remembered—and how could he _not_ remember, when it had been his internal voice of reason for months and _months_. Apart from the stupid expression on his face, Derek didn’t seem to have changed a lot, and Logan suddenly realized how much he had _missed_ his best friend. A strange giddiness took hold of him and he opened his arms to greet Derek in a rare but much needed embrace.

“You _hug_ now?” Derek asked, voice slightly strained as he tightly hugged his friend back.

Logan snorted, but waited until Derek pulled back before punching him on the arm. “And obviously, this was the last one you got.”

“Haha, very funny.”

Derek’s smile lasted all but three seconds before it turned into an irritated glare, and he punched Logan right back in his side. “You could’ve _told_ me you were coming back—we have cell phones and Facebook and email, for _fuck’s_ sake, Logan—” He shook his head and reached out for Logan’s shoulders, his fingers tightening almost possessively. “ _God_ , I’ve missed you, you complete asshole—”

Logan laughed and allowed Derek to hug him again, petting him on the back as he accepted the insults that kept streaming from his friend’s mouth, barely audible over the music.

“I missed you, too, D.” He glanced around the club. It was larger than he’d expected, with heavy red curtains hanging from the walls, probably leading to places he didn’t especially care to know about.

Derek shook his head and muttered one last insult that drowned in the pumping bass and crying guitars.

“You up for a drink?”

Cocking his head to the side, Logan smirked. “I’m always up for a drink, D.”

“Glad that hasn’t changed, at least,” Derek faked a shiver of horror as he turned around to lead the way to the bar. “The hugging is downright creepy, though. Makes me wonder how mellow traveling has made you.”

Logan rolled his eyes and seriously started to wonder why exactly he’d missed his friend so much, but he followed him obediently through the sweating and dancing crowd. Derek gave him a last one-armed hug before he slid to the other side of the bar, where he immediately got two glasses, flipped them over, set them on the table and poured a bright _purple_ liquid in them.

Eyebrows raised, Logan glanced from their fluorescent drinks to Derek, who smirked up at him mischievously.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“ _Parfait d’Amour_ , Logan. A French specialty,” he nudged one of the glasses Logan’s way and held out his own in a toast. “Welcome home, Lo.”

Logan smiled, his entire being buzzing with a heartfelt gratitude and the thrilling warmth that was an undeniable side-effect from being friends with Derek. He just wanted to express this—that he hadn’t felt this genuinely good for a long time—when the music changed and the lights dimmed. Derek’s head snapped up to a point behind Logan and his face split in a wide smile.

 “Oh good, you’re just in time for the show.”

Feeling like this evening was a constant avalanche of surprises, Logan caught Derek’s eyes expectantly. “Show?”

Derek leaned forward over the bar, one of his hands catching Logan’s wrist and tugging him closer. “You remember the photograph I send you? The boy in it?”

“Yeah, with the—” _smile_ , he wanted to say, but he swallowed the word back, worried it might sound a little bit obsessed. Instead, he gestured vaguely towards his face, the air, whatever.

Derek seemed to understand, apparently used to these kinds of reactions, because his grin only grew wider.

“He is the show.”

“What?”

Looking around in confusion, Logan saw the people break off their conversations mid-sentence, heads swiveling around to a stage Logan hadn’t even noticed until now. He turned back towards Derek questioningly.

The last Logan saw of his friend were Derek’s cheeky smile and his waggling eyebrows before both the music and the lights cut off completely, the silence that followed so heavy and intense he could actually hear himself breathe.

One spotlight flickered on after about four inhalations, moving restlessly through the crowd and coming to a stop somewhere on the stage—there was so much anticipation in the air it was almost palpable—and there he was. The boy with the tanned skin and the smile that just wouldn’t—couldn’t—leave Logan’s memories.

There he was, dressed so differently in comparison to Derek’s picture Logan had to do a double take.

The brunet boy had gotten rid of the baggy and comfortable clothes, having opted instead for tight leather jeans and a dark purple button down. It was so quiet in the club, Logan could hear the soft _pat-pat-pat_ his laced, leather boots made as he sauntered across the stage. The boy’s elegance was a natural thing of beauty, the proud arch of his shoulders and the irresistible sway of his hips torturously graceful. The spotlight moved up and settled on his face, and Logan had to repress a groan. Half of his face was thrown in the shadow of a black fedora he was holding in place with one hand, only his delicate nose and lips visible. His full and luscious lips, curling up in a slow smile.

“Hi.”

The simple greeting rolled through the crowd in a hushed voice, causing quiet murmurs of appreciation to swell from the people, sending a chilled shiver down Logan’s spine. Completely mesmerized, Logan sipped his purple drink (which tasted surprisingly good) and almost choked on it when the music exploded back in the club and the brunet boy—who apparently was a dancer—started to _move_.

Logan startled when a finger gently tapped his chin and he snapped his mouth shut, not even aware that it had fallen open in awe. Derek sighed dramatically and shook his head.

“Heart’s still too big, then.”

Logan narrowed his eyes, mildly annoyed for being disturbed, but he refused to look away from the dancer. The boy—whose age Logan found impossible to estimate—was strolling over the platform, his smile taking on a taunting edge, his slender hands reaching out to stroke one of the metal poles so gently it was easy to imagine he really was stroking a—

“Julian.”

Blinking, Logan turned to Derek in confusion. “What?”

“His _name_ ,” Derek said, dragging out the second word, “is Julian. Well, the people here know him as Cheshire, I guess, but since you’re my friend and all—” he shrugged and resumed the stupid grinning. “I know you, Logan, and that expression on your face was begging me to tell you his name.”

Logan glared at him and, choosing to ignore Derek’s blatantly intrusive behavior, returned his attention to the stage.

“Julian,” he repeated softly, ignoring Derek’s laughter next to him.

Back on the stage, _Julian_ was unbuttoning his shirt, slowly of course, throwing teasing winks and enticing smiles in his audience. And it was blaringly obvious that it was _his_ audience. Every man and every woman had moved forward until they were almost standing on top of each other, anything to get closer to the lone dancer on stage who was using his body and face so very well to enchant them.

From this distance Logan couldn’t see Julian’s eyes, except for the few times the light reflected on them and they shined out from underneath the fedora. He could see his body—all the curves and sleek lines, all that tanned skin glistening with sweat. And he didn’t see enough, in the end. It seemed like the song wasn’t even over, ending abruptly mid-sentence, when the lights died down and the sound broke off. It was not followed by silence now, though. The thrilling notes were replaced by loud cheering and clapping and catcalling, the people absolutely and utterly in love with this dancer they obviously knew so very well.

“He does this often?”

Derek nodded. “Almost every night. He’s the main act. Most important source of our income.”

The lights and music flickered back on together, a different song playing now, riling up the people even more, and Logan turned around to face Derek. His friend shrugged.

“He’s also an asshole.”

Logan blinked.

“But hey, aren’t we all,” Derek clapped Logan on his shoulder. “Come with me, Lo, because I think you need some rest. And quite possibly the coldest shower in New York, dear _God_.”

Insults had always served perfectly at grounding him and Logan came back to himself with a jolt, swatting at Derek’s head in playful irritation.

“Fuck you.”

Derek smirked. “I’m not the one in dire need for a good fuck, my friend.” He laughed when he ducked out of the way of Logan’s second attempt at harming his head, and grabbed his friend’s arm to guide him out of the club.

 

 

“Did you ever expect me to work in a place like this?”

Logan glanced to the side, watching Derek lean back on his arms and stare up at the sky. They’d been here for a while now, in the small courtyard garden Derek had called Oasis, their second and third glass of _Parfait d’Amour_ long but gone.

“No,” he answered honestly.

“What did you expect?”

“Maybe that you’d already taken over the world by now. But hey, we can’t have everything.”

Derek pursed his lips and shook his head. “One step at the time, Lo. Taking over the world only works when people expect it the least.”

Logan snorted. “You’re off to a good start, then.”

“I know, right?”

It was almost strange how quiet it was in the courtyard, but then again, they had crossed a lot of doors and a lot of heavy, velvet red curtains to get here. It was peaceful, almost eerily so, but Logan found it comforting to have Derek at his side again, bantering and bickering like they hadn’t spent an entire year apart.

“So that dancer—”

“Julian,” Derek interrupted, eyes still staring into space, but lips twitching up at the corners.

“Julian. How old is he?”

“Our age.”

“No way,” Logan said, still seeing the dancer move in his thoughts. He had seen a lot of dancers by now and there had been some fantastic ones in between, but none of them had known how to manipulate a crowd as well as Julian. “He must’ve been doing this for ages, the people _loved_ him.”

“Yeah. He’s even a couple of months younger than me, almost half a year I think? Even a few months younger than you,” Derek yawned, shrugging. “And he _has_ been doing this for ages. He has a natural talent for wrapping people around his little finger. Like I said, he’s an asshole.”

“Talking about yourself again?” the new voice proceeded the soft _thud_ of the courtyard door closing and Logan glanced over his shoulder curiously.

Next to him, Derek rolled his eyes but didn’t bother turning around.

With a shock Logan recognized the new arrival, walking toward them with the same haughty attitude he’d worn at his performance earlier this night. The dancer was wearing the same clothes, but his shirt was buttoned up and there was no fedora on his head. This meant that when Julian directed his gaze to him, Logan was presented with the full power of bright, sepia eyes. Julian scrutinized him carefully for a few seconds and when Logan answered the stare with a blank, unimpressed look, the dancer smiled cheekily. His eyes softened as he ran a hand through his hair, which was such a dark brown it seemed almost black in the night.

“So you’re Logan?”

Even Derek appeared to be surprised now, finally tearing his eyes from the sky and turning to stare at Julian. “And you know this how...?”

Logan threw him an amused glance before resuming his staring at Julian, who was, admittedly, extremely pleasing on the eyes.

Julian’s gaze darted back and forth between Derek and Logan for a moment, his smile transforming into a more wicked one.

“Oh, but you told me all about him, Derek.”

At this, Derek sat up straighter and his expression turned into the annoyed kind of vigilance. It was an expression Logan was all too familiar with.

Julian practically _skipped_ closer, clearly still high on adrenalin even though the show had ended a few hours ago, and sank down on the other side of Derek, draping one arm over his friend’s shoulders.

“He missed you _so much_ , Logan, couldn’t stop talking about you. I think I could write a book about your life by now, so many _details_. You only received one postcard?” Julian’s smile got wide and sharp, his cheeks dimpling a bit, and Logan understood now why he was named after the Cheshire Cat. Nevertheless, Derek’s expression was a little bit too controlled for him to believe all of this was true. It was amusing to see, however, that he himself wasn’t the only one with the capacity of driving Derek to this level of irritation.

Julian sighed theatrically. “You only received the _one_ postcard, Logan, because I had to _hide_ all of the other ones.” His eyes flew up to meet Logan’s and they shimmered in mock concern. “For fear of embarrassment. And secondhand embarrassment. You would’ve flown right over if you would’ve read the content, so much _heartbreak_ —”

“Alright, that’s _enough_ , you brat,” Derek moved so fast Julian didn’t stand a chance and the dancer let out an agonized cry when he was caught in a headlock. Derek, in the meantime, pretended not to notice the squirming boy in his arms. “Logan, this is Julian. Dancer, singer, spoiled brat and asshole.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Julian struggled to sit up again and succeeded only because Derek took pity on him. “I take exception to that third one. I’m not spoiled in the slightest. I only wish I was.”

Derek continued to ignore him, playing a game he’d practiced with Logan many times before. “He’s the best friend I got in this crazy hellhole.” He grinned as he finally turned to a chagrined Julian. “Julian, this is Logan. Singer, pianist, traveler now, I guess, and, coincidentally, _also_ an asshole. My best friend from high school. Which was a crazy hellhole as well, I suppose.”

“Always so eloquent,” Logan said dryly.

Julian leaned forward and extended his hand. Logan took it and shook the freezing fingers.

“Nice to meet you,” Julian said, smile turning down a bit when a gush of cold air made him shiver.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Another breeze flew through the courtyard, reminding them that autumn had well and truly occupied New York. Casually, Derek handed Julian his vest, snorting when Julian made a soft sound of gratitude and leaned into his friend’s side, pulling the grey piece of clothing tight around his body.

“See?” Derek said as if he’d proven a point, arching an eyebrow as he caught Logan’s stare. “Spoiled.”

Julian whacked Derek’s arm, but Derek only laughed and pulled him closer to his side. He murmured something, soft enough that Logan almost couldn’t hear.

“Night was good?”

After a long sigh, Julian closed his eyes and shrugged. “Night was fine.”

Derek hummed and continued to stare in the dark night.

Logan didn’t completely understand, but he didn’t bother to ask and a comfortable silence descended on them, in which they stared at the sky and the few stars they could see. Logan remembered places he’d visited that had so many stars, the black sky underneath had barely been visible. He missed traveling, he really did, but not so much as he had missed hanging out with best friends in peaceful companionship. His heart felt full and light, which was a feeling he had lost somewhere along the way, and he was very relieved to have it back.

Eventually, the silence was broken by Julian’s hushed voice. “Does anyone have a lighter?”

“No.”

“Yeah,” Logan rummaged around in his pocket and handed Julian the lighter he found there. Julian smirked that infamous smile of his, wide and bright and beautiful, and brought an unlit cigarette to his lips.

“Thank you.”

Derek threw a sideways glare at Logan, who tore his eyes from Julian’s face just in time to receive it.

“What?”

“You _smoke_ now?”

“No, of course not. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from traveling, it’s to always carry a lighter with you.”

“A much appreciated habit, I’m sure,” Julian mumbled around the cigarette between his lips.

“Yes,” Logan grinned.

Derek rolled his eyes and turned his glare to the brunet sitting on his other side.

“You’d better not be lighting that thing directly next to me.”

“Hmm.” Julian tipped his head to rest it on Derek’s shoulder and lit his cigarette anyway. “Don’t you love me, D?” he asked, a whirlwind of grayish smoke escaping his mouth and swirling up to the starless sky.

Derek grimaced and pushed him away. “I only love you when you’re not poisoning me.”

Laughing lightly, Julian stood up and walked to the middle of the square. He twirled in a little circle, Derek’s baggy vest swaying around his waist and giving him a vulnerability that had Logan’s heart miss a beat. The dancer tilted his head to stare up at the moon, his eyes reflecting its brilliant light, and he looked young and wild, his entire appearance taking on the quality of a dream.

“ _When he shall die_ ,” he whispered, tongue and lips curling easily over the age-old words, spoken so softly that Logan had to strain to hear them. “ _Take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine, that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no worship to the garish sun._ ”

Derek let out a long breath and shook his head. “Always so depressing,” he muttered, much too lowly for Julian to hear. Louder, he told Logan, “Julian wants to be an actor.”

Julian shot Derek a blazing glare, but Logan ignored it in favor to ask, “So why doesn’t he become one?”

Derek snorted and nudged him with his shoulder. “I’ve missed your pragmatism, Lo, I really did.”

“You two don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julian said icily. “You make it sound like it’s the easiest thing in the world to become an actor.” He looked down at them from where he stood, one arm hugging his chest, the vest hanging off one shoulder, his burning cigarette delicately pinched between two fingers.

“Isn’t it?”

“ _No._ ”

Derek shrugged. “I don’t know, Jules. Logan might have a point here. You won’t know until you’ve at least tried, right?”

 Slowly, Julian put the cigarette between his lips and inhaled carefully. When he spoke, smoke slid from his lips and his nose and, strangely, it was one of the most enchanting things Logan had ever seen. “And who says,” Julian said, sounding hopelessly defeated, “that I haven’t tried already?”

Derek stared up at him, his expression betraying the sadness he felt. “So try again, Jules.”

Julian huffed and lowered his head. “Yeah.” He dropped the cigarette and crushed the butt with the heel of his leather boot. “I’m going to bed, guys, it’s been a long night.” He walked to the door, fingers brushing through both their hair as he passed by. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Logan replied quietly, his eyes following Julian as he left them alone in the garden.

“Night, Jules,” Derek muttered, his eyes already on the sky again.

 

 

It was another hour of mindless conversation and peaceful quiet before Logan finally stood up to go home. The sky was already fading into a dark blue by that time. Derek saw him out, giving him another hug as they said their goodbyes. Logan didn’t think he’d ever embraced Derek that much in one day since they’d been kids.

Predictably, Derek’s goodbye came with a compelling demand.

“Come by again someday.”

“I will, D.”

“I really did miss you, Logan.”

In these small hours of the night emotions always had the tendency to increase in intensity and depth. They always seemed bigger than they really were, bigger and heavier and fuller than what a heart seemed to be able to carry along, and Logan was satiated with so much happiness and love he could burst.

“I missed you, too.”

“Come by tomorrow.”

“I’ll try, D, alright?”

“And after that we should probably meet somewhere that isn’t a nightclub.”

Logan laughed. “Probably. See you, Derek.”

“See you, Lo.”

With a last smile, Derek turned around and closed the door. But it seemed that Logan’s night of surprises wasn’t over yet, because not even twenty steps closer to home, the heavy oak door creaked open again and a light voice echoed through the empty street. This early in the morning, not even the booming beats of the _Moulin Rouge_ were there to distract from the silence.

Logan looked back in time to see Julian hurry out the door and towards him.

“I forgot to give your lighter back,” he said. He was wearing different clothes, looking more boyish in the simple jeans, warm sweater and worn down sneakers. His eyes flashed in the last rays of the moonlight and Logan briefly wondered if those brown eyes had a habit of reflecting light so easily or if it was just his own mind playing tricks on him.

That Cheshire grin again. Tired, but still as wicked. Julian held out the lighter. “Take it, then.”

Logan shook his head. “You can keep it.”

Julian’s fingers curled around the lighter and his smile didn’t waver as he looked up. “You sure? I thought that the one thing you’d learned from traveling was to always carry one of these with you. How will you make new friends now?”

Ignoring that last part, Logan shrugged. “Not traveling anymore, am I?”

“So you’re staying?”

Logan studied the brown eyes for a while and nodded slowly. “Yeah. Maybe. At least for a while.”

Julian’s expression softened in a teasing grin. “If you come back again, I might be able to convince Derek to give you another free drink.”

He didn’t think a lot of convincing would be necessary, but he humored the dancer with a smirk of his own. “You have that kind of power?”

Julian raised his eyebrows and nodded. He leaned closer, so close that his lips almost touched Logan’s ear and Logan could smell smoke, sweat and the adrenaline of dancing all night long, and he almost choked on his heart in his throat.

“I have _all_ the power,” Julian whispered, his voice velvet soft and vibrating through Logan’s entire body. The next second, Julian pulled away with a light laugh, flipped the lighter in the air before shoving it into his pocket, and whirled around.

“Until next time, Logan.”

And watching Julian strut away, Logan became aware of his heart, beating an incessant rhythm against his ribs he wasn’t unfamiliar with.

_Boom boom boom._

__

* * *

 

Art made by the amazing [Stephanie](http://www.lionphantom.tumblr.com)! 


	2. Rhythm of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Judith (thisisdemfae) for betaing even though there was a storm in her country. You're awesome! :D  
> And also a thank you for Stephanie (lionphantom), who made an amazing art piece (there's a link to her art on my tumblr blog)

When Julian closed the door behind him, two tall blond men were waiting for him in the hallway, their arms crossed in front of their chest and wearing identical expressions of wary exasperation. Julian took one look at the both of them and sighed impatiently, deflating a little under their scrutiny.

“Listen—” he started, but he was interrupted immediately.

“No,” one of them said, sounding so stubborn and determined it shut Julian up.

“ _You_ listen,” his brother continued.

They stepped forward, crowding him effectively, and Julian leaned back in a reflex, his arms coming up to tug Derek’s vest closer around him.

“What do you two want now?” he snapped, not in the mood for the tense, weird conversations the twins usually wanted him to take part of. He’d much rather be in bed, covered underneath his warm sheets and dreaming about green eyes and a sparkling smile.

“You have to be careful, Cheshire.”

“We’re not taking chances—”

“—never again—”

“We will be watching—”

“—carefully—”

“—all the time—”

“—and we will _kill_ —”

“—anyone who tries to hurt you.”

Julian’s eyes shot back and forth between them as they held their little speech, secretly grateful for their offered protection, but also deeply annoyed by their endless interference in his business. The twins’ blue eyes were as hard as the ice they so much resembled, and Evan raised his eyebrow expectantly when Julian stayed silent. Julian pressed his lips together and his right hand sneaked into his pocket, fingers clenching around the cold metal of Logan’s lighter.

“It’s okay,” he said defiantly. “Derek trusts him.”

“We don’t care,” the twins chorused, their voices taking on that sharp, haunting edge they always did when they talked at the same time. They stared at him intently. “Are you alright?”

Julian couldn’t help the short burst of laughter escaping him.

 _Alright_?

He hadn’t felt this _alright_ in _years_.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m completely alright. Now, could you please let me go to my room? I’m tired.”

Evan and Ethan continued their obnoxious stares for a few seconds longer and they seriously looked like they would not let this go so easily, so Julian decided to intervene before they could _really_ get into this. Running away was his specialty, after all.

He shook his head and pushed forward abruptly, lightly punching their biceps as he left them standing in the dark corridor. “Trust me.”

He remembered to thank them, though. He had never thanked them the last time they’d really deserved his gratitude, and he’d never admit it of course, but he was making up for that particular error every time the opportunity arose.

“But thank you, oh annoying Gods of overprotection.”

He tried hard to ignore the glares he could feel burning in his back as he made his way to his room.

 

 

He jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his eyes flashing open and darting through his room, restlessly searching for the thing that woke him. For a full minute Julian was captivated by the usual confusion that followed being startled awake from such a deep sleep, staring at the rain quietly pattering against the window and wondering why he’d woken up when he was still so incredibly tired. When someone banged on his door he almost jumped and he closed his eyes with a groan. Yanking the sheets further up and shoving his head underneath the pillow, he hoped the person would stop harassing his door and leave him alone.

Unfortunately, the attack on his door started anew and Julian realized with a heavy heart this was officially the end of his sleep. He pulled the pillow from his head and opened his eyes to glare at the direction the noise came from.

“ _What?_ ”

His glare only intensified when the person finally walked inside. The manager of the _Moulin Rouge_ smiled, white teeth contrasting starkly against the dark of his skin. He wasn’t fazed at all by the look Julian bestowed on him and he strolled closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching out to rake his fingers through Julian’s hair.

“Good morning, my little cat.”

“So it _is_ still morning,” Julian said, voice still raw and sleepy and nothing like the deep rumble of the other man. He tried to see the time on the golden watch the intruder wore, but his boss turned his wrist away, laughing.

“Ooh, annoyed little cat?”

“Exhausted cat,” Julian grumbled and he closed his eyes, pressing his face in the fabric of his pillow and praying he’d be left alone soon. “What do you want, Richard?”

He felt the mattress dip when Richard leaned down, his rough fingers tugging almost painfully on his hair. “You were brilliant last night, Chesh.”

Julian glanced up at him and rolled on his back, flinging an arm out to his nightstand and blindly searching for his cigarettes and Logan’s lighter. When his hand finally closed around the items, he sighed tiredly.

“It’s too early for this shit,” he murmured.

Richard plucked the lighter from Julian’s clumsy fingers, examining it curiously before nicking a cigarette from the pack, putting it between Julian’s lips and lighting it in a series of practiced movements.

Julian’s eyes fluttered shut when he inhaled, welcoming the soothing burn in his lungs and the soft lightness in his head.

“So,” he said after a long moment had passed, filled only with silence and cigarette smoke. “What do you want, Richard?”

Richard’s smile took on something menacing. “Rajesh is coming tonight.”

Julian frowned and his eyes snapped open. He studied Richard’s face, his heart picking up a faster pace when he saw the sincerity on there. His fingers shook only a little when he brought the cigarette back to his mouth. “And?”

Cupping Julian’s face in one large hand, Richard lifted it towards his own. “He requested specifically for you, of course.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” Richard’s eyes glinted dangerously as he leaned down and pressed a long, lingering kiss on Julian’s lips. “And I expect you to make him a very happy man. Tomorrow we will have a business meeting and I expect _me_ to walk away from there a happier and richer man. Got it, kitty cat?”

Julian stared up at him with his face still trapped in Richard’s calloused hand, a heavy apprehension settling in his chest. “Yes.”

“Good boy.”

Richard gave Julian one last kiss, deeper and rougher this time. The hand that wasn’t holding Julian’s face traveled down to the dancer’s crotch, his nails raking over the sensitive skin, fingers digging in Julian’s thigh.

Julian squeezed his eyes shut and mentally cursed his failing self-control when a shiver of repulsion ran all the way from his head to his toes. He forced his hands to stay lax and quiet on the sheets, to not give in to the primal urge to push away the man who was trespassing all his limits and his carefully constructed walls.

Noticing the tension, Richard only laughed, ending his chuckles with a deep and hungry sigh.

“Oh, Cheshire.”

With a taunting smirk, Richard stole the cigarette from Julian’s lips when he finally stood up. Gazing down at Julian, he very much resembled a parched man staring at an ocean filled with salty water he couldn’t drink.

Richard took a deep drag and breathed out the smoke slowly.

“I’ll be watching your show tonight,” he said quietly, dark eyes roaming over Julian’s body.

Julian stared back, expression carefully blank.

“Good luck, tiger.”

The moment the door slammed shut behind Richard, Julian blinked and let out a long breath. He lit another cigarette, watched the rain on the window, and tried hard to control the burning desperation growing in the pit of his stomach.

 

 

It was after a long and hot shower—in which Julian tried to wash away both the sins of the night and this morning—when he walked in the deserted dance hall, making a beeline for the bar. As expected he found Derek there, cleaning up and taking stock of his products. The two of them were the only ones in the club, which always slightly unnerved Julian, who was so used to the hundreds of wild people every night.

When Derek noticed him, he smiled in greeting. “Hey Jules. You’re up early.”

Julian shrugged and sank down on one of the barstools, folding his arms on the bar table and resting his chin on his wrists. He quietly watched Derek count his liquors.

“I need some of your Purple Poison, D.”

Almost automatically, Derek glanced at his watch.

“Already?”

“Yes,” Julian said, sitting up and dryly adding, “I’m not twelve, Derek, you don’t need to be worried about my drinking habits and you don’t need to monitor them.”

“I’m constantly worried about all of your habits,” Derek muttered, but he got up anyway and obediently poured his friend a glass of Parfait d’Amour. He shoved it over the bar towards Julian and walked around it to take place next to him. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Julian took a sip from his drink, nursing the glass as if it was a steaming mug of tea and he was chilled to the bone. “Richard came to my room just now. Woke me up.”

Derek’s expression darkened instantly. “What did he want?”

“Just updating me about some recent events.”

Julian still felt Richard’s lips on his own and his fingers on his hair and face and thighs, and contemplated taking another shower. He felt immeasurably filthy, even more so than after an entire night filled with only cigarette smoke, strange bodies and wild sex.

“Recent events such as...?”

Bless Derek and his never-ending concern. In another lifetime, Julian swore that his friend would make a brilliantly annoying mother. In this lifetime, Julian was infinitely grateful for his comforting presence and continuously offered friendship.

(Even when it sometimes suffocated him and he whined and complained like he didn’t appreciate it at all. Which was a lie both he and Derek knew the real truth behind.)

“Apparently,” Julian started, lowering his eyes to watch the purple liquid swirl around in his glass. “Apparently, Richard has some kind of meeting with Rajesh tomorrow, who is staying the night.”

 “Oh.” Derek narrowed his eyes. “With you? He’s staying the night with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Derek looked like he was considering something, his eyes thoughtful and his lips twitching downward, and then offered lightly: “You want me to put something in his drink?”

Julian snorted. “Probably not. If he’s somehow off for that business meeting, Richard might actually kill me, I think.”

Derek didn’t seem too happy about it and Julian knew precisely how much his best friend hated to be powerless, but his disappointed expression made Julian laugh anyway. He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, D. It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

Derek’s hand came up to squeeze Julian’s wrist, a short and silent sign of comfort and friendship, making Julian wonder once again what he’d ever done to deserve a friend like Derek.

“So,” he said, tired of the subject and the worry it brought in Derek’s eyes, “is your friend coming again tonight? Logan?”

Predictably, Derek’s expression brightened like it always did when his long lost friend was mentioned. He shrugged and took his phone from his pocket.

“I don’t know. He said he would definitely come by again, but I’m not sure if he meant today.” He unlocked his phone and started tapping a message. “I’ll ask him.”

“Good,” Julian said. He’d liked the blond boy. And not _liked_ in the way of _I want to fuck your brains out_ , but rather in the way of _I want to get to know you better_ , which was a new and infinitely more pleasant feeling.

“Why?” Derek asked, glancing up from his phone and narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Julian raised his eyebrows and cursed Derek’s apparent ability to read minds.

“Because I had a nice time last night?”

Derek saw right through it and his expression lit up in mischief. “You fancy him?”

“ _No_. Don’t be an ass about it. He’s nice and you’ve been in a considerably better mood since he’s around, which is better for me and my worrying drinking habits.” Julian picked up his glass as if to prove a point.

Derek seemed to not have listened at all. Which was nothing new, really.

“He’s a piece of work, though. Just a warning.”

Julian snorted and lifted the glass to his lips.

“We’re all pieces of work.”

He finished the Purple Poison, feeling only marginally better, and pushed himself from the bar.

“I’m going for another shower, but let’s go have breakfast together after that?”

“Sure,” Derek said absentmindedly, frowning at something on his phone. He sighed and returned to his list with all the different kinds of alcoholic beverages. He grinned at Julian.

“I’ll update you when Logan answers.”

“Whatever.”

“See you later, Jules. Good luck with pretending you don’t care.”

 

 

That night, Julian wore his newest leather jeans, the ones that were so tight they were difficult to dance in, and a red button down because it was the color Rajesh liked best. He left his fedora in his room and painted black coal around his eyes, all because Rajesh liked to see his hair free and loved the look of make up on his face. And when the music started playing and the spotlight found him on the stage, he danced a show he hadn’t danced in many months (all breathy moans and kissing strangers and much less classy than usual) all because Rajesh favored this routine.

All throughout the performance Julian wore his smile, the wide Cheshire one, and strutted across the stage like he was King and _Moulin Rouge_ his kingdom.

He dropped to his knees at the edge of the stage, stole a quick kiss from a young woman and allowed a catcalling man to stroke three fingers over his side, all the way down down to his groin and thighs. He moaned in all the right places, the microphone carrying the breathy sounds straight through the crowd. He let the people play with him in ways he would normally not allow and in the middle of some woman sucking on his throat, he looked up to see Richard smiling at him from a dark corner, and knew he was doing good.

It was only when the show finally neared its end that Julian dared to glance at the bar. His gaze flitted over Derek’s stoic face and came to an abrupt stop when he found Logan, the entire _Moulin Rouge_ shifting to a dizzying stop. Logan’s eyes were wide and calm when he answered Julian’s gaze, only the slightest hint of barely restrained excitement in his expression. As Julian watched, completely captivated by those impossibly green eyes, Logan raised his drink, Purple Poison reflecting the dancing lights tauntingly, and sipped carefully. The gesture did nothing to hide the smile that threatened in the corners of Logan’s mouth.

Someone’s shout carried over the music and reality came back to Julian with a rush of sound and screaming, and he backed away automatically when he saw the man who was trying to climb on the stage. He took another hesitant step back and was forced to break eye contact with Logan, but then the Tweedles were there, shoving and pushing until the drunk backed down. Evan winked at Julian and Ethan glanced fleetingly to Logan and back to Julian, but the dancer shook his head at them, curling his lips into a perfect smile when he turned to his audience and performed an elegant bow. Looking up, he stared right into Logan’s eyes and their emerald shine was etched into his brain when the lights cut off and he beat his hasty retreat from the stage.

 

 

Rajesh came to him shortly after the show and he was forced to shove aside all his thoughts of Logan, not willing to even think about the beautiful blond boy when he let people play with his body like Rajesh was about to.

Rajesh closed the door behind him, carrying all the excitement a toddler radiated with when Christmas approached. Julian, sprawled out on a bed in one of the rooms used for occasions like these, put out his cigarette and schooled his features into a seductive, inviting expression. He smiled up at the man, much older and much broader than him, and patted the sheets.

“Why are you still standing, good sir?” he purred, and Rajesh grinned his ugly smile and raked his hands through his thinning hair.

“And why,” Julian whispered, watching Rajesh gracelessly fall down on the mattress, “ _why_ are you still dressed?”

Rajesh’s smile grew wider, wide enough for Julian to see his golden molars and his dark gums, and it was with a heavy heart and a clenched stomach that he invited the man in his arms.

It was the same messy, painful fuck it always was with Rajesh. Rajesh, who didn’t like to prep properly. Whose hands were too big, his fingers too clumsy and his nails too rough. Who moved around too much, handling Julian’s much lighter body too carelessly, whispering filthy things that made Julian want to retch instead of come.

Julian liked it rough, he really did, but not like this, not like this at all. And when Rajesh was finally done with him, hours later, his only wish was to curl up and cry, an intense self-loathing unfurling in his chest and spreading white-hot through his veins. Instead he smiled, _always_ smiled, cleaned both of them up and lead Rajesh out of the room, their goodbye a few sloppy kisses and painful touches, making Julian feel used and useless and nothing more than the whore he really was.

 

 

A scalding hot shower later found him curled up on his own bed, clad in his off-duty clothes, staring listlessly at the window where not even the rain could distract him from the harsh night he’d had. He didn’t look up when his door opened and closed softly, already knowing who it was.

“Jules?”

The mattress dipped when Derek crawled in the bed, scooting over until his back was against the wall and his hip was touching Julian’s shoulder. When Derek tugged the sheets around the both of them, Julian rolled on his back and looked up at his friend.

“Hey.”

Derek smiled at him, but his eyes were dark with worry and his hand warm and gentle when he grasped Julian’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Logan asked where you were when you didn’t show up in Oasis.”

Involuntarily, Julian’s lips twitched up in a slow smile. “He did?”

Derek chuckled and shook his head at Julian’s hopeful expression. “Yeah, he did.” His hand slid down Julian’s arm and pushed up the sleeves of his sweater. He pressed his lips together when he saw the finger-shaped bruises around Julian’s wrists and the red marks where sharp nails had clawed too forcefully.

Julian blinked calmly up at him, waiting for the inevitable question that was about to come.

“Night was good?” Derek asked tersely, obviously forcing himself to carry out their little, stupid custom.

Hearing the familiar routine question, Julian closed his eyes and nodded, his smile warm and gentle as always. He shrugged one shoulder and answered quietly.

“Night was fine.”

Not saying a word, Derek stared at him, pulled the sleeve back over the bruises and slid down until he was lying shoulder to shoulder with his friend.

“Alright,” he whispered, resting his cheek on Julian’s shoulder and winding an arm around the dancer’s waist. “Alright.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Next chapter should be up in a couple of days, in the meantime I'd really appreciate to hear your thoughts :)


	3. Can’t Keep This Beating Heart At Bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Judith for betaing and thank you Stephanie for making art! You two are the best :D  
> (Please go back to chapter 1, I've added Stephanie's art at the end of the chapter!)

The phone went off mid-conversation again and Derek apologized profusely for the third time, yanking his phone from his pocket to check his messages. Logan looked at him questioningly.

“Sorry, Lo. Casey’s mother is sick and might go to the hospital,” he muttered distractedly, punching in a hasty reply. “Casey has also sniffed your trail and she just won’t back down when it comes to asking things about you.” He arched his eyebrow. “That must be nice for your ego, right? Even in my relationship, with my mother-in-law sick, you’re still in the centre of things.”

Logan didn’t even listening further than the first time Derek dropped Casey’s name, his mug of steaming coffee nearly slipping from his fingers. He raised his eyebrows and stared dumbly at his friend. “ _Casey_?”

Derek glanced up, pausing in his lengthy reply to Casey who was, apparently, his girlfriend yet again. “Yes?”

“You mean _girlfriend_ Casey?” Logan asked and then, just to be sure, “as in, _high school_ Casey?”

Expression taking on a slightly annoyed edge, Derek finished his text and stowed his phone away. “Jesus, Logan, she’s in that picture I sent you, dude. You honestly think she’d ever come near me if she hadn’t forgiven me at least a little? And _why_ are you looking so ridiculously surprised?”

“Of course I’m surprised,” Logan said with an incredulous laugh. “You _cheated_ on her. On her _birthday_. Her _twenty-first_ birthday.” And, if he was being very honest, he hadn’t even recognized the girl in the picture as Casey. “Did she curl her hair?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yes, she curled her hair. Which is _completely_ not the point, Logan. Honestly.”

“And I’ve been back for almost two weeks and you only mention this _now_? You could’ve _at least_ sent me a message while I was away.” Logan’s mind was such a jumble of thoughts, Derek could barely keep up.

“To mention her _hair_?”

“That you were _dating_ her, you absolute idiot.”

Derek snorted and pointed to Logan’s coffee, which was held in precariously unsteady fingers. “Please drink your coffee before you spill it. It might even clear up your head, because for fuck’s sake, you’re not making any sense anymore.”

“ _I’m_ not making any sense?” Logan shook his head, but obediently drank his coffee. “Jesus Christ, this is probably the biggest surprise since I’ve returned—please tell me you’re only seeing _her_ and not five other girls.”

“Logan.”

“Please don’t say you’re dating _six_ other girls, or—”

“ _Seriously, Logan._ ”

“If this question surprises you, you have a tragically low sense of self-perception, D.”

“Logan, _calm down,_ ” Derek snapped, irritated. “I’m only seeing _her_ , I swear on everything I own that I’m not cheating on her. Even when there are so many beautiful women walking on this Earth. Cross my heart.”

“And hope to die?” Logan asked dryly.

“Well, not yet,” Derek said, intentionally ignoring the sarcasm, “because Casey hasn’t forgiven me enough for me to touch everything underneath shirt and skirt, and I’d very much like to do that before I die.”

“That’s a fantastic bucket list you’ve got there.”

“Yes. Priorities, Logan.” He sighed with a theatricality Logan had come to associate more with Julian  and sank a little in his seat. “I’m also kind of her slave until then.”

Logan laughed so hard he had to set down his mug to prevent from actually spilling his valuable coffee. The people on the tables nearby looked over as his laughter sounded through the little cafe they were having lunch in, waiting for Julian to wake up and finally join them. “Yes, that’s kind of exactly how I pictured it would be,” he told a chagrined looking Derek, grinning from ear to ear.

“Ha ha.” His friend pulled an ugly face at him, leaning over the table to punch Logan in his shoulder. “Wait until you love someone so much you’d be willing to give up your freedom for—then we’ll talk.”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks,” Logan snickered. “But I think I’ve figured out why you’re not dominating the world yet.”

“Oh funny. Haha. Hilarious,” Derek sniffed and picked up his mug.

“I disagree,” a third voice added and they both looked up to see Julian saunter over. He draped his jacket on the back of an empty chair and plopped down in the seat, immediately proceeding to steal a muffin from Derek’s plate and an orange from Logan’s. People were looking over again.

Julian, Logan had discovered during the last few days, possessed the insufferable habit of wandering into a room, demanding all the attention and taking over any conversation taking place.

“I think,” Julian continued unabashed, nimble fingers beginning the messy job of peeling the orange, “that Casey could run the world instead and you could support her in her glorious goal to make this stupid thing a better place. The two of you would make a great power couple. And I think Casey’s very much a person that would be comfortable ruling a kingdom with billions of people,” he paused his peeling for a split second before correcting himself, “which would be a queendom, I guess?” He popped a piece of orange in his mouth and smiled sweetly at his friend, who’d been glowering at him for the entirety of his little speech.

“You can say whatever, Jules, but I’d be fine with Casey controlling the world and me being in her shadow,” he turned an icy glare at Logan. “Because that’s what I’d _do_ for her.” He shrugged. “Thanks for the advice, Julian. I’ll take it up with her.”

Julian looked from Derek to Logan and winked at the latter. “Knew he would. If this plan succeeds, don’t forget to reward me.”

“I’m sure you’ll remind me,” Derek remarked dryly.

It was Julian’s turn to shrug and Logan snorted, picking up his mug again and watching Julian drown his own coffee in tons of sugar and cream. Derek noticed his staring and, clearly wanting to change the subject, kicked his shin underneath the table.

“You see what I had to put up with while you were gone?” he shook his head at Julian, who glanced up at him and stuck out his tongue in childish defiance. “You can’t call that coffee, right?”

Smirking, Logan inclined his head to Derek’s cup. “You’ve got nothing to stand on, Derek, since you insist on calling _that_ muddy drab coffee.”

Just in the business of taking a sip, Julian nearly choked as he burst out laughing and Logan received a second kick against his shin from a mildly annoyed Derek. His friend looked like he was going to insult Logan right back—and Logan couldn’t help grinning as he anticipated the familiar bickering—when they were interrupted by the phone yet again.

“I swear to God, she’d better not be asking about you _again_ , Logan,” Derek started and Logan raised his hands in the air as if to claim innocence, but Derek looked at the screen, paled and instantly turned serious. “Shit, guys, I need to go,” he stood up, his chair nearly toppling over in his haste. “I have to go.”

“What’s wrong?” Julian asked, voice muffled as he spoke around a piece of muffin.

“I told you about Casey’s mom, right?” Julian’s mouth formed a little ‘o’ in understanding. “And she’s just been admitted to the hospital, so I should probably go and start that entire support business.”

Julian nodded seriously, swallowing the piece of muffin to cheer his friend on. “Dominating the world one step at the time. Good luck, D.”

“Tell her I said hi,” Logan said, “and that I wish her mother all the best.” When Derek got in his jacket and turned to walk away, he quickly added, “and tell Casey I truly admire her for putting up with your shit again.”

Derek wasn’t above whacking his friend on the head as he stalked out and Logan snickered as he watched him hurry out of the cafe, slamming the door shut behind him. Next to him, Julian chuckled lowly, and Logan’s heart sank and then tripped over a couple of beats when he caught on to the fact they were completely alone now.

The _Moulin Rouge_ dancer didn’t seem to be bothered by anything, dragging Derek’s unfinished plate closer and shrugging unapologetically when he caught Logan’s stare. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet.”

As Julian attacked the fried egg with the fork he’d conveniently collected from Logan’s plate, the light of the watery sun outside streamed in through the window, curtains breaking the rays in pieces that danced serenely across Julian’s immaculate face—and Logan realized with an exhilarating jolt he’d never seen Julian in daylight before. Without the shadows of night and the distorting lights of the nightclub, Logan could only now appreciate Julian’s beauty for what it really was. His hair wasn’t as close to black as he’d thought it was, instead a rich, oak brown that fell in messy waves over his ears. His eyes were different too, taking on the color of dripping honey even in the late autumn sun. But his smile... his smile stayed the same—catty and brilliant and teasingly aimed at him.

“Logan?”

Logan almost jumped, eyes darting from Julian’s mouth to brown, inquisitive eyes instead. “Yeah?”

Raising a delicate eyebrow, Julian chose to ignore Logan’s distraction and indicated their empty plates. “You wanna leave this place?”

Still dazed and slightly embarrassed, Logan agreed wholeheartedly, trying not to steal a peek at those full, pink lips that were slowly stretching into a knowing smile. “Yes. Let’s.”

“Alright,” Julian said enthusiastically, his sneakers making a squeaking noise on the cafe’s floor as he pushed his chair from the table.

“Any place in particular you want to go?” Logan asked, trying desperately to show his new friend he really was a sane person. More or less.

Julian shrugged, grimacing as he noticed the weather outside—gloomy and cold, the sun threatening to be swallowed by the gray clouds. “Anywhere really. It’s my free night, so I have all the time in the world.”

Logan grinned and followed Julian when he stood up.

“How well do you know New York?”

 

 

Julian, Logan found out, didn’t know New York all too well for someone who claimed to have been living here for nearly five years.

“I grew up in LA,” Julian defended himself. They were seated in another coffee shop, since the temperature had dropped considerably outside, and they each nursed a cup of steaming coffee in an attempt to return some warmth in their hands. It was one of Logan’s favorite coffee shops in this side of the city and it took only one look at the generous menu for Julian to passionately agree.

“When I was fifteen,” Julian continued, momentarily distracted when the waiter came to bring their orders, eyeing the cherry pie hungrily. “When I was fifteen I decided I wanted to be an actor. My dad had a friend who advised me to go to New York, because he’d heard me singing and thought Broadway was my path to fame. Through that same friend I got in contact with this guy named Richard, who owns the Moulin Rouge where I’ve been working for five years now. Derek and I met almost a year ago when he started working at the bar, stealing all the girls and introducing that stupid Purple Poison.”

Logan frowned at Julian’s expression, which had quickly morphed from enthusiasm to a defeated kind of sadness. Logan slowly cut off a piece of the cherry pie.

“The other day you said that you’d tried to get into acting. I kind of thought that meant you had actually auditioned and everything.”

Julian’s eyes glazed over for a split second before he managed to pull his guard back up, smiling and uttering a breathy laugh.

“Yes, well. This is all temporarily of course. Richard promised me that he’d get me in somehow, you know, in Broadway or Hollywood or whatever. When I’m ready.” He seemed to notice Logan’s dubious expression and quickly tried to reassure him. “No, really, it’s okay. He _promised_ me.”

Frown deepening, Logan silently handed Julian the fork with the piece of pie speared on its end, because the dancer looked like he was in desperate need of something sweet. Their fingers brushed when the fork changed hands, sending a warm electrical wave through Logan’s body. He felt a bit relieved when Julian took it almost matter-of-factly, sepia eyes lighting up when he tasted the pie.

“And how will he decide when you’re ready?”

Julian shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out when he does.”

“Yeah, I guess you will.”

Julian gave the fork back—the waiter had only given them the one, but neither one of them appeared to mind sharing—and glanced away, staring at the street outside and the dark clouds gathering above them. He looked sad and untouchable, and Logan realized there was an entirely different dimension behind the walls of enthusiastic mischief that were usually firmly in place. Taking pity on him (and also because he wanted to see that infamous smile again) he decided to change the subject.

“So, Los Angeles?”

It did the trick. Julian’s attention returned instantly and he nodded dreamily. “Yes. Where the sun always shines and it’s never ever cold.” He glowered at the sky as if it had personally offended him.

Logan laughed and Julian’s eyes softened when he turned back to look at him.

“You must’ve been to many sunny places yourself,” he remarked. “Derek told me you traveled. Europe, wasn’t it?”

“If you think Europe harbors many sunny places, you are sadly mistaken,” Logan said with a chuckle. “Or maybe I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time a lot.”

Julian shook his head. “You’re lying.”

“Well,” Logan said. “I guess the south has a climate similar to California. Spain and Portugal and Italy.”

Scooting to the edge of his chair, Julian clasped his coffee mug tighter, his eyes glimmering in earnest now. “Tell me,” he demanded.

“The north is less sunny,” Logan continued, feeling oddly excited to have all of Julian’s attention for himself. “Less sunny and more rainy and cold. UK, the Netherlands, Denmark and Scandinavia. But absolutely not less beautiful.”

And to Julian’s obvious delight, he launched into a story about all his adventures while traveling. How he’d tried to live on music at first and later, after meeting the bohemian musician Joshua in a shady bar in Prague, also on love. How punk Berlin had welcomed him with open arms, letting him live like a king for weeks, and how he’d spent a week starving in Bratislava, because he’d failed to make the people fall in love with him. He smiled wistfully when he remembered the evenings spent on the warm boulevards in Barcelona and the rainy nights in Amsterdam, stumbling piss drunk through the narrow alleys with its crooked houses and hazardous canals.

Julian was listening to it all in complete silence, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted in excitement.

“Your life sounds kind of amazing,” Julian said when there was a lull between two of Logan’s stories.

Logan blinked, thought about the days when he’d lost or forgotten his medication, or the days spent  without food or shelter, or the wild break up between him and Joshua.

“It wasn’t amazing _all_ the time,” he admitted.

But Julian shook his head determinedly. “At least you’ve seen something of the world.”

Sobering, Logan studied Julian’s face and those beautiful eyes that had never seen the starry sky above the mountains in Norway or seen the stretched out plains of Hungary.

Julian smiled at him. “Even if there were bad days in between, it’s the bigger picture that counts. And at least you’ve seen something of the world.”

“Yeah,” Logan said after a short moment of consideration. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Julian said confidently and winked as he brought another piece of pie to his lips.

 

 

Evening had covered New York like a gray blanket by the time they finally started to head back to the _Moulin Rouge_.

“Now that I know you’re from LA, everything’s starting to make more sense to me,” Logan remarked as he watched another shiver run through Julian’s body.

“What?”

“How you’re always whining about the cold, for example.”

Julian narrowed his eyes and glared at him from under his pulled up hood. “We can’t all be cold blooded animals,” he mumbled as Logan laughed.

“You know what? I feel sorry for you,” Logan announced and despite Julian’s sputtered “feel _sorry_ for me?”, he took off his scarf and dropped it unceremoniously on Julian’s shoulders, who exclaimed a little cry of delight and leaned affectionately in Logan’s side.

“Thank you.”

There was a fondness growing for Julian that Logan hadn’t felt for anyone ever before, so he couldn’t help but smile at the stupid boy with the stupid grin and the stupid tendency to get cold so easily. “You’re welcome.”

For a while they walked in comfortable silence, Julian once in a while nudging Logan’s side in what Logan suspected was an unconscious search for warmth. When they walked through the little park close by the nightclub, Julian suddenly stopped and reached out to grasp Logan’s wrist with freezing fingers.

“Let’s stop here.”

Logan looked around, but finding nothing worth waiting for, he raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Why?”

Rolling his eyes impatiently, Julian started tugging him to the narrow bench at the edge of the walking path. “Don’t be difficult, please, and come sit with me.”

Feeling like he should be grateful there was at least a _please_ in there, Logan let Julian pull him down on the bench and even let him lean against his side when they were finally settled.

Julian fumbled around some more, until there was a cigarette in one hand and Logan’s lighter in the other, and sighed contently when he lit it and took the first drag.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Will you stop if I do?”

Julian smiled succinctly and shook his head. “No. But I’d consider it.”

“I suppose I should feel honored you would take the health of my lungs into consideration.”

“You should,” Julian laughed, smoke escaping from his mouth and spiraling up into the darkening sky.

“Everyone has his own poison,” Logan remarked, following the trail of smoke until it dissolved entirely. “I guess it says a lot about a person when their poison affects others as well, though.” He side-eyed Julian slyly and was pleased to see the dancer’s lips curl up in a pout.

“That’s harsh.”

“Oh boohoo. Derek _did_ introduce me as an asshole. You got a fair warning.”

“And I’m telling you, from one asshole to another, that that was harsh.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Prick.”

“Bitch.”

Tilting his head to the side, Julian rested his cheek on Logan’s shoulder and closed his eyes. The small gesture loosened a whirlwind of emotions in Logan’s chest and he took an unsteady breath, well aware that Julian was a guarded person and that he didn’t show just anyone his trust. He felt humbled and the fondness blooming in his chest grew in volume. Even when this position meant that Julian’s cigarette smoke crept straight into his nostrils, making him cough painfully.

Julian snickered. “You’ll get used to it, promise. Before you know it, you’ll be addicted, too.”

Logan didn’t dare to ask what he’d be addicted to, the smoke or the smoker, so he huffed and muttered, “Wonderful,” and hoped it didn’t betray too much.

Judging by the way Julian relaxed against his side, that one word had betrayed at least a little. But Julian stayed quiet about it, so Logan sighed and slid down until he could rest his head against the backseat.

“Why are we sitting here anyway?”

“Are you in a hurry to get back? Do you have any other plans for tonight?”

Unwilling to admit he didn’t have so much of a social life besides Derek, and now Julian, Logan didn’t answer the latter question. “At least it’ll be warm inside.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julian whispered, blinking up at Logan through his long lashes. “I’m fine right here.”

Heart stuttering, it was all Logan could do to answer Julian’s gaze calmly until the brunet broke eye contact first in order to take another drag from his cigarette. Because Julian was obtrusive enough to smoke right next to him, his cheek still resting on his shoulder, Logan had no problem finding the audacity to rest his own cheek on the top of Julian’s soft, brown hair. He felt the dancer stiffen for a short moment before he snuggled closer, and Logan hadn’t felt this level of contentment for a long, long time.

“You know why you’re fine right now?” he asked quietly, his voice a mere breath of air Julian could only hear because they were pressed so close together.

“Why?”

“Because you’re inhaling fire.”

Julian sighed and underneath his cheek, Logan could feel the other boy shake his head. “Derek told me many tales of you ruining perfectly nice moments—”

“We’re having a moment?”

“Obviously,” Julian said and Logan had to smile at the serious note in his voice. “But that’s not the point—the _point_ is that I’m not inhaling the fire. Just the poison.” And with that, he craned his neck to blow the cigarette smoke right into Logan’s face. Logan jerked back and Julian’s bright laughter echoed through the park when Logan tried to wave away the smoke with his hand, sneezing and coughing violently.

“ _Fuck_ —”

Eyes tearing up, it took Logan a few seconds to realize Julian had long but fled, and he jumped up from the bench to chase after him. Julian’s infectious laughter cut off when Logan caught him in the waist, nearly throwing them both off balance and on the ground. Twisting around in Logan’s arms, Julian tried to send another breath of smoke his way, but his laughter made what should’ve been a whirlwind into tiny puffs of harmless smoke, and it was Logan’s turn to laugh now. He swatted the cigarette from Julian’s fingers and unconsciously pulled the dancer closer, until they were pressed chest to chest with Logan’s hands resting lightly on Julian’s slender back.

Their eyes met, expressive green drilling into glistening sepia, and a heavy silence fell between them. Their breathing, already harsh from their short outburst of playfulness, turned almost erratic. Julian’s lips parted and from this close Logan could see how moist and full and utterly kissable they really were, but something flashed in his caramel eyes—panic or fear or uncertainty, Logan couldn’t quite figure it out—and he pulled away hastily. Logan let him go easily and that seemed to be a relief, because Julian laughed shakily, running one hand through his hair and lowering his eyes to the ground where his cigarette was still smoldering.

“If you wanted me to stop smoking you could’ve just told me,” he joked, his voice a little rough around the edges. When he looked up again, those massive walls were pulled up and his face was carefully calm, only his eyes betraying some of the excitement he must still be feeling.

Logan smirked, wished his heartbeat and his breathing would both just slow down already, and carefully laid his arm around Julian’s shoulders. Julian seemed to accept this and even leaned a little into the embrace, which did nothing good for Logan’s heart and breathing at all. Julian glanced at him with a warm smile, his expression a bit more serious but no less beautiful.

“You’re going to be bad for business,” he whispered quietly, his eyes a little dazed as he stared up at Logan. “I can tell.”

Logan granted him a wide smile and gently steered them back toward the _Moulin Rouge_ , Julian’s admission a warm, encouraging mantra going through his mind over and over and over again.

 

 

It wasn’t a long walk back to the _Moulin Rouge_ , even when Logan walked as slowly as possible, wanting to prolong the feeling of Julian’s body pressed close to his own for as long as possible. Julian didn’t seem to mind, his face as serene as Logan had never seen it before. When their nice walk ended by the entrance of the nightclub, both of them were reluctant to let the other go and they stood there for a while, leaning against each other in silence.

It felt nice, standing like this with Julian against his chest, the dancer’s heart beating in sync with his own and his warm breath ruffling Logan’s hair. Somehow he felt more whole now than he’d ever felt before.

“You know what?” Julian asked, his hushed voice a pleasant addition to the silence. “If I tell you I know where Derek keeps his Purple Poison, would you come have a drink with me?”

Logan smirked. “I might be persuaded.”

“Well, in that case,” Julian sneaked out from underneath Logan’s arms—and Logan felt the loss instantly—and opened the door, throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I know where Derek keeps his Purple Poison.”

Logan smiled and followed him through the dark corridor, trusting the dancer to know the way. However, when they set foot in the completely abandoned dance hall, two tall men were already seated at the bar, drinking something that wasn’t Parfait d’Amour, looking up expectantly when they stumbled in together. Julian froze for a few seconds, then let loose a string of curses that had Logan raise his eyebrows.

“Such filthy language, Chesh,” one of them said teasingly.

They stood up to walk closer, and Logan had to do a double take. They were definitely twins, their ice blue eyes sharp and curious as they stared at Julian’s hand and the way his fingers were circled around Logan’s wrist.

“And who is this then?”

Julian pressed his lips together and avoided their inquisitive stares the best he could, but he didn’t let go of Logan’s arm, fingers tightening instead, and that made Logan feel brave enough to ask who the fuck these two were supposed to be.

Well, maybe not in those words.

“And who are you?”

Both the twins narrowed their eyes at him.

“They’re the Tweedles—” Julian started, but was rudely interrupted.

“—bouncers—”

“—protectors—”

“—whichever—”

Julian held out his free hand to stop them, which was good, because Logan was starting to get a headache from the way they talked.

“Would you both _please_ ,” Julian almost begged, something Logan didn’t know he even _could_ , “ _please_ act normal. For once.” He gestured to Logan. “This is Logan, Derek’s friend.”

“And yours, apparently.”

“And mine, apparently,” Julian admitted.

Logan’s cheeks flushed hot when Julian called him his friend, which was stupid, because they’d long since established they were at least _friends_. It still felt morbidly satisfying to hear it being said out loud.

“You need to get out,” one of the twins said, and he flashed a warning glance at Julian.

“I can’t believe you brought him inside,” the other added.

“For a _drink_ ,” Julian protested. “For fuck’s sake, I can bring friends for a drink, right?”

“No, Chesh. You know you can’t.”

“ _Evan_ ,” Julian snapped. “Don’t be an asshole and get yourself and your brother out of my dance hall.”

When they stepped forward, one of them reaching out for Julian, Logan reflexively moved to place himself between Julian and these two strangers, but Julian pulled him back and accepted Evan’s hand on his shoulder with the barest flinch.

“Have you gone _mad_ , Cheshire?” Evan demanded sharply, his brother a menacing presence right next to him. “Do you have any idea what Richard’s going to do to you when he finds out you’ve been sleeping around?”

“I haven’t been _sleeping around_ ,” Julian hissed heatedly, letting go of Logan’s wrist in order to push Evan away.

Evan’s brother stepped forward, grabbing Julian’s wrist, and Logan moved again to intervene, with a snappy, “— _don’t touch him_ —” but then the twins rounded on him, catching his arms and yanking him back.

“ _Logan_ —” Julian’s fingers brushed his arm, but one of the twins pushed the dancer back, and Julian looked livid now, “—don’t you _dare_ ,” he snapped. “Ethan, Evan—let him _go_!”

Logan cursed sharply and tried to free himself, but he was no match for the twins, who were dragging him forcefully back to the entrance of the _Moulin Rouge_.

“Don’t struggle, Logan,” Ethan—or Evan, who fucking knew—muttered.

“Goddamnit,” Logan growled, uttering a string of profanities when his arms were wrenched up higher. He was strong, but it was useless to fight against the combined strength of the twins and he surrendered with an aggravated huff. “ _Fine_.”

Looking once more over his shoulder, he caught a last glimpse of Julian  before they turned a corner and the dancer disappeared from his view. Julian was standing with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, emitting an aura of loneliness and uncertainty and staring at the three of them with an odd kind of despondence. Sudden concern for the brunet burned away his outrage and he stopped struggling, placidly following his guides.

When the twins noticed, their grip loosened and they sighed simultaneously—which was starting to _creep_ Logan out. He tripped and almost fell when they pushed him out of the door, and Logan had been thrown out of a couple of bars before, but never had he wanted to _get back in_ as badly as now. Just to check on Julian. Just to make sure that sad expression would not stay on permanently.

“Is he alright?” he blurted out, searching the twins faces for an answer and slightly pleased when their eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“He’s going to be alright,” Evan said eventually.

“If you stay away.”

“That doesn’t make any _sense_ ,” Logan bristled. “He was fine the entire day, until _you two_ showed up.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Trust us when we say this, Logan—”

“We’ve known him a long time and we’ve known this world an even longer time—”

“And going out with you—”

“Sleeping with you—”

“We’re not _sleeping_ together.”

“Falling in love with you—”

“Or whatever it is you two decide to do—”

“It’s not doing him any favors, you will inevitably end up hurting him—”

“I will _not_ ,” Logan protested vehemently, but the twins ignored him.

“And it will _not_ make him _fine_ ,” Ethan finished with a sneer. “ _You_ will not make him _fine_.”

A familiar fury sang in his blood, a fury he’d been controlling _so well_ it would be a shame to mess it up right now, and Logan wisely pressed his lips together and backed away a few steps. He tried to peek behind the twins, but he only saw the darkness of the corridor and if that wasn’t an accurate representation of his emotions he didn’t know what was.

“I will be back,” he said, green eyes flitting between the twins. “I _will_ be back, you can tell him that. I’m not giving up so easily.”

“And _what_ exactly,” Evan asked with a raised eyebrow, “are you not giving up on?”

Logan didn’t know, didn’t really know how to describe what he was feeling, so he turned around without another word and left the twins to answer that question themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parfait d'Amour is a bright purple liquor that has a curaçao base, is flavored with rose petals, vanilla and almonds. It can also be made with a spirit as its base, flavored with lemon, coriander and violets. I thought it an appropriate title because it's a french specialty and the Moulin Rouge (which was the main inspiration of this fic) is set in Paris, France. It has the word amour in it and let's face it, this is obviously a love story. And to finish it off, apparently there's a high standing family in the Netherlands who claims to have originated the drink and I am Dutch so there we go ^^ I don't think I've ever put so much thought in a title ever before :P
> 
> Anyway, next update might take a while longer, because the next few chapters still have to be betaed.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'm not going to say I'll write faster when you leave comments because almost everything is written already (though I do need some more motivation for the last 1,5 chapters), but your comments are like chocolate to me and, as we all know, one can never have enough chocolate :)


	4. Drunk In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many thank yous to Judith for her support and her amazing comments and her suggestions :D  
> And so many thank yous as well to Steph who made amazing art, which I'll add in the right chapter ;)   
> YOU TWO ARE AMAZING <3

Derek was waiting for him outside the club, leaning nonchalantly against the brick wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He acknowledged the blond with a slight tilt of his head, wearing an expression he only wore when Logan had done something stupid.

“Heard you had a run in with the twins.”

Ah. So he had heard about that then. Wonderful.

His mind racing to provide an excuse, Logan came up empty and it was with a frustrated sigh that he had to admit, “Yeah. I guess.” He ran his hands through his hair and prepared himself for an extended version of one of Derek’s ridiculous and unnecessary speeches.

Surprisingly, Derek merely continued to glare at him. “They said you seemed angry.”

Oh, so it was about _that_.

Logan’s face scrunched up in annoyance. “Derek, when I told you I’ve been taking my medication, I wasn’t _lying_ to you.”

“You tell me,” Derek said. “Because I’ve heard stories like that before.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Logan muttered, before taking Derek’s shoulders in his hands and lowering his head so their eyes were on the same level. “I swear it wasn’t like _that._ I walked away, didn’t I?” He let go, fingers raking through his hair again, which must be a huge mess by now, “and for _fuck’s sake_ , Derek, of course I was _angry_. _You_ would’ve been angry. Julian and I were going inside for a drink and all of a sudden these two blond devils—creeping me out with their synchronic talking and moving—fucking descend on us and throw me out of the fucking _club_. You telling me I didn’t have the right to be _mildly_ furious?”

Derek considered this, still examining Logan’s face and doing a good job at pissing off his friend.

“Are you at least going to let me in?” Logan demanded. “It’s freaking cold outside.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Logan said, confused. “Of course I’m okay. Well, I’m freezing, but I’m fine.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, realizing he would have to wait until Derek had said everything on his mind. “I don’t know if the same could be said for Julian, though. Did those twins hurt him?”

At this, Derek’s face broke out in absolute bafflement. “The Tweedles— _hurting_ him? Of course not, don’t be ridiculous. They would never hurt him.”

“They’re fucking mad,” Logan mumbled in his scarf, shivering when a violent gush of air raced through the street, bringing golden leaves and an icy cold that chilled him to the bone.

Derek snorted. “That they are,” he agreed, shrugging one shoulder. “They’re just looking out for him, though. I’ll talk to them. As long as you’re fine?”

“Yes, of course. They didn’t hurt me at all.”

“Hm. Not even your feelings?” Derek asked, a teasing smile pulling up one corner of his mouth.

Logan, recognizing when he was being mocked even when it was the coldest autumn he’d ever experienced, pulled one hand from his warm pocket and punched Derek in his chest.

Laughing, Derek rubbed his chest and gestured Logan to get inside. When the blond had set one foot on the doorstep, Derek’s hand shot out to stop him.

“For the love of God, Derek— _what_?” he snapped, patience wearing dangerously thin.

“You and Julian had a good time?”

“Until Tweedledee and Tweedledumb came in and ruined the entire day— _yes_.”

Derek grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Logan said, impatient but wanting to convince his friend of his sincerity and conviction. “It was _really_ nice.”

“Did anything happen?”

“Seriously?”

“Just looking out for him. And for you.”

Logan shook his head, incredulous. “You eternal mother hen.”

“Shut up, Logan,” Derek’s stare got more intent. “ _So_? Did anything happen?”

“ _No_ , Derek. Nothing happened. Because two idiots burst our little pink bubble.”

Derek laughed, patting Logan’s chest soothingly. “Just looking out for him.”

“Derek, he’s an _adult_ —more or less—and I think he can look out for himself just fine,” Logan said dryly.

Something dark and murderous flitted through Derek’s eyes and although it was gone as quickly as it had arrived, Logan felt a sharp stab in his chest. Before he could ask, however, Derek grabbed his arm and pushed him in.

“Might be, but a little help never harmed anyone,” Derek muttered. “Now come, before you miss the show.”

 

 

Julian was absolutely captivating, as usual, the swerving lights accentuating the angelic beauty of his face and the tight lines of his body. The music played loud and unforgiving, but Julian never missed a step, never missed a smile or a wink, and he was perfection impersonated. Cheered on by loud catcalls, Julian stroke his hand over one of the poles, standing solid and gleaming on both ends of the stage. He laughed, throwing his head back and shoving his crotch up against the metal, one leg wrapped around it to keep him like that. He bent backwards, and Logan’s hands clenched around his glass of Purple Poison when he saw how incredibly flexible Julian was.

Hanging upside down, Julian finally spotted Logan in his usual spot at the bar and his smile grew wider, his entire expression even more animated. Logan smirked back, shaking his head with a soft laugh when Julian wagged his eyebrows at him.

When the song was nearing its end, and Julian had gotten rid of his shirt and was darting over the stage barefooted, two girls suddenly reached out and got hold of him when he was walking too close to the edge. Logan jumped from his seat immediately, his heart loud in his ears when Julian disappeared into the roaring crowd, his panicked expression the last thing he saw.

“ _Shit_.”

Logan whirled around to see Derek climb on the bar and stand up, trying to see over the crowd to check on his friend.

“Do you see him? Is he alright?” Logan asked him, tugging on Derek’s jeans to get his attention. Derek held out a hand, a clear sign for Logan to _shut up and wait_ , and Logan did so obediently, chewing the inside of his cheek in concern and cursing the screaming people around him to hell and back.

Finally, Derek crouched down and winked at Logan, traces of tension still lingering in the lines of his face. “Twins got him out.”

Dizzy with relief, Logan nodded. “Okay. Okay.”

“You should go to him, Lo,” Derek said, frowning. “I promised Casey to visit her immediately after the show.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Logan finished his drink and wanted to turn around to leave, but Derek pulled him back by his collar.

“You should probably know where he is, before you get lost,” Derek said dryly when Logan glanced up at him questioningly.

“Right.”

Derek shook his head and ruffled Logan’s hair fondly. Logan swatted at him irritably. “I always tell you your heart’s too big, Lo.”

“Yes you do,” Logan rolled his eyes. “Tell me instead where I need to go.”

Derek smirked, told Logan to pass the curtains on the right of the stage and jumped off the bar to get his things before leaving.

Pushing through the wild people was easier when you were as tall as Logan and he reached the heavy curtains soon enough, slipping behind them and instantly colliding with two women so deeply involved with each other they didn’t even notice him. A soft hand brushed Logan’s arm and he jumped back hastily.

“Shit,” Logan breathed, eyes widening when one of the girls slid her fingers underneath her lover’s skirt. He swallowed nervously and quickened his pace, almost relieved when he saw the silhouette of two men in another shady corridor.

When he got closer, that relief quickly turned into wariness when he recognized Ethan and Evan, then back to relief when he saw who it was they were talking to.

Julian’s back was against the wall and his arms were hugging his chest tightly as he docilely listened to the Tweedles’ rapid questions.

“You alright, Chesh?”

“She didn’t hurt you?”

Julian sighed and shook his head wearily. “I’m fine.”

“Julian?”

The dancer’s head snapped up, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated, and his face lit up in a smile when he saw who it was.

“ _Logan._ ”

Ignoring the feeble protests of the twins, he pushed through them and towards the blond. Logan opened his arms just in time to catch Julian when he fell in them, his eyes fluttering shut when his lips brushed over soft strands of brown hair.

“You okay?” he whispered, his heart only settling when he felt Julian nod against his shoulder.

Not letting go of Logan, Julian turned his head to glance at the Tweedles, who were watching the two with mild amusement.

“You two can go now.”

“Sure, Cheshire?”

“Yes. And thank you,” Julian added.

Evan and Ethan smirked and disappeared in the shadows of another corridor, and then they were alone and Logan was painfully aware of Julian’s bare chest against his thin shirt, his tanned skin glistening with a fine layer of sweat. Pressed so closely against him, he became acutely aware of Julian’s uncomfortably shallow breaths and glancing down he frowned when he saw the pained look on the dancer’s face. He tightened his arms around the slender waist.

“Jules?”

Despite being so obviously uncomfortable, Julian huffed a breathy laugh. “Derek always calls me that.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Julian whispered, but his bottom lip trembled and he shook his head, changing his mind. “No. I want to sit down.”

“Okay,” Logan looked around for a proper place to sit, but finding nothing he simply helped Julian sit on the floor and scooted them backwards until their backs were resting against the wall. He kept one arm around Julian’s shoulders, his fingers unconsciously playing with the wavy brown locks as he stared intently at Julian’s face. “Jules?”

“One moment,” Julian breathed, almost inaudible through the loud music—muffled by the heavy red curtains, but still loud enough to vibrate through Logan’s bones.

After a few minutes, in which Logan continued to play with Julian’s hair and tried to recognize the song blasting from the speakers, Julian finally managed to control his erratic breathing. He sat up, wiped a hand over his eyes and leaned in Logan’s side.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Julian nodded tiredly. “I’m okay now.”

“What happened?” Logan asked quietly.

Julian shrugged and rested his cheek on Logan’s shoulder. “Just panicked. But I’m fine.”

Logan thought about the girls pulling him into the crowd, pictured the hungry eyes and the grabbing hands, and he swallowed thickly. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, not really. But—you know,” Julian hesitated, gesturing to his body. “They touched.”

Logan leaned his cheek on Julian’s hair and hummed an understanding.

“I want to take a shower,” Julian sighed and he untangled himself from Logan reluctantly, standing up and offering the blond a hand. “Come with me.”

 

 

In the middle of Julian’s bed, Logan was seated cross-legged. The sounds of running water echoed from the bathroom, but he tried not to think of Julian under the shower—naked and undoubtedly beautiful—and let his gaze roam over the room instead. It was not an overly large space, mostly occupied by the bed, a closet and a desk with a mirror, all kinds of stuff scattered over the table. His fingers twitched when he saw his lighter lying on the nightstand next to the bed, laid carefully on top of an opened pack of cigarettes. Logan wondered whether Julian smoked in his bedroom. Feeling only a little ridiculous, he bent down and sniffed the sheets. He sat up with a low sound of disgust.

Yes, he definitely _did_ smoke in his room.

_Gross_.

The running water cut off abruptly and the loud noise of multiple things clattering to the floor reached the bedroom, followed by a series of vehement curses. Logan laughed.

“I can hear you laughing in there!” Julian yelled and then muttered, “ _asshole_.” It only served to make Logan laugh louder. The dancer walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his bare shoulders, which served no goal at all because his hair still dripped water all down his back. He was only wearing his baggy jeans, riding low on his hips and making Logan feel slightly uncomfortable.

Julian dragged the towel through his hair one last time before throwing it on the chair in front of the desk, pulling on a blue t-shirt and dropping next to Logan with a long sigh. He laid down on his back and pulled his knees up, looking at Logan through his long, wet lashes. Maybe it was the heat Julian brought from the shower or maybe it was the Parfait d’Amour, but a pleasant warmth stole through Logan’s body, loosening all the lingering traces of tension and he relaxed further on the mattress.

“You wanna hear a secret?”

Logan blinked at the unexpected question. “Yes?”

Julian grinned his Cheshire smile, his fingers drumming a staccato beat on his stomach. “You’ll have to come closer or everyone will hear.”

Ignoring the fact that they were very much alone, in Julian’s _bedroom_ , Logan eased down until he was on his side with his head propped up on his hand and arched his eyebrow questioningly.

From this close, he could see the bags underneath Julian’s eyes, thin lines of exhaustion etched finely into his otherwise immaculate skin. Sepia eyes glistened with mischief as the dancer’s smile widened.

“Well?” Logan inquired. “What’s your secret?”

“Impatient, are we?”

Logan shrugged, a tiny smile playing in the corners of his mouth. He’d never claimed to be a saint, so he had no trouble admitting. “Always.”

“Alright,” Julian shifted a little closer, stopping only until his face was right beneath Logan’s. The mischief drained from his face in less than a second, replaced by an open honesty. He whispered, so very quietly that Logan could barely hear him: “I think I like you.”

Something clicked into place and Logan’s eyes widened minutely, the howling wind outside the only thing audible for a full minute as he carefully studied the bright brown eyes staring back unblinkingly. Julian’s cheeks were flushed in a delicious sort of way and Logan couldn’t help but glance at his slightly parted lips, pink and soft and _so goddamn kissable_. When he looked up he saw the mirrored desire in Julian’s gaze and all he could think was _yes, me too, I like you too._ However, instead of wasting time on words, he smiled and leaned down the rest of the way.

Their lips met in a kiss so tender and gentle, a faint tingle spread from his face all the way to his chest and the tips of his toes. Julian made a quiet sound in the back of his throat that caused shivers to run up Logan’s spine, and he cupped the dancer’s face in his hands as he deepened the kiss. Julian invited him willingly, one hand coming up to tangle in blond hair and pressing Logan’s head down. Silent fireworks exploded behind Logan’s closed eyes and accompanied by the wind still gushing outside, it perfectly reflected the emotions whirling in his chest and in his head. He abandoned Julian’s lips to leave a trail of kisses down his jaw and further down his throat... where he lingered, because the breathy moans suddenly coming from Julian’s mouth were glorious and exhilarating and, he instantly decided, his new favorite sound in the world.

They were so completely and utterly enchanted by the other, their universe dwindling down until it just involved the two of them, that they both jumped and gasped in shock when someone started banging on Julian’s door.

Whining quietly in disappointment, Julian closed his eyes and let his hand fall back on the mattress, his nails leaving a trail of goose bumps down Logan’s neck. Logan cursed softly and rested his forehead against Julian’s, his thumb caressing the dancer’s cheekbone, fingers playing with his brown hair and eliciting a languid smile.

When the banging didn’t stop, Julian sighed and Logan sat up reluctantly, scooting to the edge of the bed. Julian stood up slowly, snapping a “yeah yeah _,_ I’m coming, _calm down_ ,” before looking back at Logan and running his fingers through his hair.

“How do I look?” he asked.

_Beautiful_.

“Like you’ve just been kissed,” Logan said and added, just for good measure, “by someone who is an _extremely_ good kisser.”

Julian glared at him, but his lips twitched up in a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

There was a final loud bang on the door, followed by an angry shout. “ _Julian_!”

Julian startled at the voice and he seemed to recognize it, because he paled and his wide eyes darted from the door to Logan and back to the door again.

“Jules?” Logan asked, concerned at the fleeting panic that crossed the dancer’s face.

Julian snapped his eyes to him. “ _Shh_ ,” he hissed, running his hands over his clothes in a vain attempt to straighten out the wrinkles, and opened the door.

“It was about _time_ ,” the waiting man barked and he shoved Julian none to gently aside as he walked into the bedroom. “What is going on with y—” he came to an abrupt halt when he saw Logan sitting on the bed and he turned back to Julian, his voice sharp as a knife’s edge. “And who is _this_?”

Julian shook his head, huffing a mirthless laugh. “A friend.”

The man studied Logan for a few seconds before giving him a smile so wide and insincere it made Logan’s hairs stand on end. He stood up, not taking his eyes off the stranger’s, feeling a little smug when he noted he was taller than the man.

He had traveled for a year and he’d met all kinds of people, people who were a blessing to have around and people who were toxic and drained energy with a leech-like tenacity, and somewhere along the road he’d become quite the accurate judge of character. Even from miles and miles, without even knowing them, Logan could recognize rotten people. This man, who was meeting his steady gaze with a smile on his face but poison in his eyes, promised nothing good.

“Could you please give us some privacy?” the man said, poison spilling from his eyes into his voice and betraying the falseness underneath his kind words.

“ _Richard_ ,” Julian said, trying to sound calm and placating when he placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Richard, wait.”

The name jumped through his head until it unlocked a memory from not too long ago and looking between Julian and this man— _Richard_ —Logan remembered what the dancer had said, on a cold autumn night—

_(I got in contact with a guy named Richard, who owns the Moulin Rouge, where I’ve been working for five years now_.)

—and his insides turned into ice.

“Leave us, please,” Richard repeated, his voice a fraction colder.

“No,” Logan said defiantly. His skin itched and he was not taking orders from this man, whose smile was so false and cold and who looked at Julian like he owned him.

Richard’s face twitched and Logan could see his fake smile crumble a little, but Julian stepped nimbly between them, his lithe body forming a physical barrier between the two taller men. He stared up at Richard, his hands coming up to grab the man’s arms.

“Don’t be like this,” he said, his voice taking on a sharper edge. “It’s nothing, just a friend.” He looked over his shoulder at Logan, his brown eyes pleading. “Logan, go.”

“ _Julian._ ”

“Logan,” Julian stared at him calmly. “It’s okay.”

“But—”

“He told you,” Richard interrupted flatly, “to _go_. So _leave_.”

Logan pressed his lips together, hesitating. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Richard raised his eyebrows. “ _Please_.”

“Yes, Logan. Please go. I’ll see you another time.”

With a dark look at Richard, who stared back at him with a deceptive serenity, he walked to the door. He met Julian’s eyes—warm and bright and beautiful as usual—and closed the door behind him.

 

 

“I can’t remember him paying,” Richard sneered, all pretenses gone, and shoved Julian roughly backwards, making the dancer stumble against the bed and nearly losing his balance.

“He’s Derek’s friend,” Julian said defensively. “And now he’s mine too, I guess.”

“ _You guess_.”

Julian narrowed his eyes at his boss, who had shattered a moment of absolute peace amidst the whirlwind of chaos that encompassed his job. “You can’t control who I fall in love with, Richard.”

“Oh,” Richard called out. “You’re in _love_ now? That’s just wonderful—that is just _great_.” He cursed and reached out to grab Julian’s chin, yanking his face closer, his fingers digging hard in his skin. He examined Julian’s face and shook his head. “People have been waiting for you, you know that. People who _paid_ me. When this—this _friend_ of yours pays up, I’ll see what I can do for him.”

Julian grabbed Richard’s wrist and squeezed, trying to free himself. “You do not _own_ me.”

At this, Richard finally let him go, throwing his head back and laughing long and loud. “I do not _own_ you?” His voice turned harsh and brutal and Julian took a step back at the frightening expression on his face. “I own _everything_ about you. Your body is _mine_ and don’t ever presume to think otherwise,” he hissed disdainfully. He breathed heavily for a few seconds, then his expression changed in a false compassion that made Julian’s skin crawl. “Why would anyone ever want you anyway? You’re just another whore, Cheshire. He only sees your pretty face and when he notices there’s nothing behind it he won’t want to come near you, believe me.”

Julian narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Richard slapped his face so hard that Julian fell backwards against the wall, warm liquid pooling from his nose as he straightened again. He tasted blood.

“Who do you think you are?” Richard snapped. “I have made you. I have done all of _this_ for _you_.” He grabbed Julian’s hair and slammed his head against the wall, getting so close Julian could feel his breath hot and uncomfortable against his skin. “You will _obey_ me, Cheshire. You _will_ please those people waiting for you tonight or so help me God, I will make sure those actor-dreams of yours—those stupid, _childish_ dreams—will never see the fucking daylight.”

Julian coughed, struggling against Richard’s arms. “You are _lying_.”

Richard snorted.  “And what are you going to do about it?” His hand tightened in brown tangled hair and Julian groaned in pain. “I’ll tell you what you _are_ going to do.” Richard’s dark eyes narrowed. “You will clean yourself up and you will do _everything_ the clients ask you to do, since you have made them wait for so fucking long.”

He shook Julian forcefully. “Do I make myself clear?”

Julian gritted his teeth and stayed silent, but Richard slapped him again and a strangled sob escaped his lips. He nodded painfully. “Yes— _yes_.”

“And now you will get in that _fucking_ bed,” Richard all but threw Julian towards the bed, where he hit his head hard against the wooden edge and slumped to the floor like a broken doll. “And you will stop wasting my time and money, and do you goddamn _job_.”

And with that, Richard stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Dazed and disoriented, it took Julian a few minutes to realize that he was bleeding. His nose and split lip were dripping blood over his chin and all over his hands, and his racing heartbeats echoed loudly in his throbbing head. He tried to stand, but his hands were too clumsy and uncoordinated and he fell back with a miserable moan. He sobbed—a low, wretched sound in the back of his throat—and pressed his head against the edge of the bed, breathing in and out, in and out, until his heart slowed down and the world stopped spinning so much.

He stayed like that for a while, kneeling on the hard floor with his forehead against the wooden bed frame, and wondered what he should do now. Where he was to go now. He didn’t want to stay here tonight—couldn’t handle going to the bedroom where his clients would wait, where they would take his body like it was _theirs_ and where they would look at him like _he_ was _theirs_.

His first thought was Derek—would always be Derek, ever since he’d met him always his savior and hero—but Derek was out, was with Casey and her sick mom, and Julian felt tears building up in his eyes. But Derek... Derek had given him something else, another way out, and his breath hitched in his throat when he remembered.

_“Ah... here it is,” Derek had said and Julian had rolled his eyes at him and shoved his shoulder, telling him to stop being an ass about this entire_ you-fancy-my-best-friend -and-I-strongly-encourage-it _-thing._

_And Derek had grinned and typed Logan’s address in his phone and tugged Julian’s hair playfully. “You never know, Jules. If you’re ever up for a date... or a good fuck... I’ve heard things about Logan—”_

_And Julian had flushed and whacked his head, but that all didn’t matter—_

 It didn’t matter, because _Logan’s address_ was right in his phone and Julian knew exactly where he wanted to be right now.

“Thank you, D,” Julian whispered, tears flooding and slipping over his cheeks. He clumsily reached out for the phone on his nightstand and, smearing blood all over the screen, started to search for the address. “ _Thank you.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love feedback, whether it be comments or reblogs or likes or kudos, that would be amazing. I spent days writing this, so it would be awesome if people reviewed :D Thank you so much for reading!


	5. A Thousand Suns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist! Whooops. I wonder how many of you saw this coming ^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual: eternal gratitude for my beta Judith and my artist Steph, who are so amazing and kept me motivated to write this thing :)

Logan was already in bed, sending a last message to Derek (who kept updating him about Casey’s mother), when his doorbell rang. Glancing to the window he noticed the dark sky and the rain rapping a steady beat on the glass, and he irritably wondered what idiot would go out in weather like this, in the middle of the night no less. His doorbell rang again, longer and louder, and he yanked the sheets back, threw on some clothes and hurried to the door.

Logan’s eyes widened in shock when he opened the door and saw who it was. Julian was soaked to the skin, wearing only a thin shirt and shivering violently, his arms hugging his chest and his teeth clattering. That wasn’t the worst, though. No, Logan decided as his heart sank hopelessly, the worst was definitely his wide, scared eyes and his pale face and the traces of _blood_ on his cheeks and lips.

“ _Shit_ ,” Logan whispered and he kicked the door wide open, reaching out to pull Julian in the warmth of his apartment. Julian’s eyes fluttered shut as he fell in Logan’s arms, resting his cheek on the blond’s shoulder, his chest heaving with shuddering breaths.

“Jules—Julian,” Logan nudged the door closed with his foot and lead Julian down the hallway to the living room, where he eased the dancer in a chair. He knelt in front of him, cupping the pale face in his hand and gently stroking a cold cheekbone with his thumb. He tried very hard not to betray his own panic, desperately wanting to stay calm for Julian’s sake.

“Jules, breathe. Deep breaths, Julian, come on.”

A heartbreaking sob twisted from Julian’s throat and he leaned forward, resting his forehead on Logan’s as he ground his teeth together. Logan’s fingers tangled in soaked brown hair and he felt an anger flare inside him so fiery and familiar he had to follow his own advice lest he’d explode.

In and out.

_In and out_.

“Julian?”

Julian opened his eyes, honey color ablaze with pain and distress, but didn’t answer. A violent shiver rippled through his body again and he sank deeper in the chair.

“Okay, come on,” Logan said abruptly, realizing they were getting nowhere like this. He knew where his priorities lay and right now number one was not to force a story out of Julian. “We need to get you warm.” He hesitated, his thumb smearing some of the blood from Julian’s cheek. “And maybe clean you up a bit.”

He helped Julian stand up and brought him to the bathroom, hastily turning on the shower. He didn’t have the patience for clothes today—it was late in the night and he was tired and so _worried_ —so he just stepped in the shower with Julian, sliding down until they sat on the floor and he could wrap his arms around the trembling dancer.

Julian leaned back in Logan’s chest and Logan wiped his hand over the still face, trying to clean up the lingering traces of dried up blood. Pressing a tender kiss to Julian’s temple, he hugged him closer.

Hot steam spiraled to the ceiling of the bathroom and he sighed in relief when he felt Julian relax a little, his shivers abating little by little.

“Julian?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the noise from the running water. “What happened?”

Julian coughed and shook his head.

“Was it Richard?”

When Julian pressed his lips together and glanced away, Logan knew he’d guessed right—and, honestly, who else could it have been?

“I’m going to kill him,” he said, so blunt and sudden that it made Julian laugh.

“Don’t do that,” he said, voice raw and scratchy, and Logan mentally cheered for finally succeeding in weaseling a reaction out of him. “What do I do when you’re in jail?”

“Visit me, of course.”

“Yeah,” Julian murmured, his heart obviously not in the banter. “And I’ll shove a key up my ass to help you escape.”

Logan snorted, hiding his face in the hollow between Julian’s neck and shoulder, and pressed a lingering kiss on the sensitive skin of his throat. Julian closed his eyes and Logan could feel him relax fully now, the water sloshing around in the tub as they settled down more comfortably.

“Seriously, though—are you alright?”

“Yes,” Julian breathed. “Just... He just, you know, hit my face. Could be worse, I guess.”

Images of Julian being hit and getting hurt flew in a red haze through his mind and Logan tried to tone down the fury unfurling in his stomach. “I guess,” he repeated bitterly.

“And I’m warm,” Julian continued, ignoring the dry sarcasm he could surely hear in Logan’s voice. “And I’m here. And I’m really glad you live here, because I wasn’t sure.”

“Did Derek give you my address?”

Julian nodded. “For other purposes I’m sure.” A brief grin flitted over his face, but he sobered quickly. He carefully touched his cheek, his fingers brushing his split lip and his tender nose, and he made a distressed sound.

Logan gently pushed Julian’s hand away, his thumb caressing the dancer’s jaw. “Why don’t you just leave that place?” he asked softly. “If they treat you like this?”

Staring off into space as he was, Logan wasn’t sure if Julian had heard him and it took several seconds before there was any reaction at all. Julian snorted and shook his head, his hands clenching around his thoroughly drenched shirt as if he was desperately searching for something to hold on to.

“It wasn’t always like this,” he whispered. “He promised me that he’d help me become an actor and he had planned the entire thing and I believed him. I _really_ believed him. And no one doubted Richard and his nice words. Not my Dad, not that friend, not me. Richard said I would have to get some experience with dancing, which seemed like a logical next step if I wanted to get into Broadway someday. And after a year or so Richard thought I needed to get some experience with human _interaction_.” Julian’s voice trembled there, the only time it did, but he gritted his teeth and continued, and Logan could practically see the cracks in that perfectly molded mask. “And human interaction,” Julian bit out, “involves _emotions_ and when are there more emotions than during sex? So, I got some experience with that. And I must have seen and heard and felt every aspect in the spectrum of human emotions, because I have been doing just that for years. And not once did Richard think I was good enough, or experienced enough, or talented enough, because I have never auditioned.”

Logan had been waiting for it, because Julian had started shaking somewhere in the middle of his story, but it still broke something vital in him when tears leaked out of those beautiful brown eyes and Julian’s voice dissolved in barely repressed sobs. Logan hugged him closer to his chest as Julian quietly cried, the water crashing down around them drowning out his despair and the tears on his cheeks. And as Julian cried, his hands clenched around Logan’s arms in an iron grip, Logan was hit with the sudden realization that Julian’s trust in him was absolute. He was overwhelmed with an all-consuming love, so vibrant and complete it burned with the intensity of a thousand suns, leaving him reeling and wondering how much bigger his heart could grow without bursting.

 

 

“You still look like crap,” Logan sighed, assessing Julian critically.

Julian sniffed and scowled at him from where he was sitting on the bed, dressed in Logan’s oversized sweatpants and sweater. Logan laughed.

“That glare might have frightened me if you didn’t look like a drowned cat.”

“I just had an emotional break down and you make fun of me,” Julian muttered and he fell on his back, dramatically flinging an arm over his face. “You break my heart.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he knelt besides Julian. He leaned down to steal a quick kiss and took advantage of Julian’s instant distraction to drag him off the bed.

“Come on, you need to eat something.”

Julian followed him obediently, but when they arrived in the living room, he halted abruptly and gazed around the room in obvious awe, his eyes drawn to the instrument standing prominently in one corner. Logan left him gawking and continued his way to the open kitchen.

“You play?” Julian asked, walking forwards to tenderly run three fingers over the smooth black surface of the beautiful piano.

Logan looked up from where he was rummaging through the fridge, trying to collect something edible. “Yeah. When I traveled through Europe I played in cafes and bars and restaurants.”

Absentmindedly accepting the turkey sandwich Logan offered, Julian’s eyebrows rose in appreciation. “Do you sing?”

“Of course. I’m surprised Derek didn’t tell you all of this,” Logan teased, “since he told you my address and everything.”

Julian grinned, his first sincere smile since he entered the apartment. “Well, he knows I like surprises.” He bit in the sandwich and Logan laughed when his expression lit up. “This is delicious.”

“Only the best for the star,” Logan said laughing, taking a seat behind the piano. “A day old turkey sandwich.”

“Thank you so much,” Julian said around a mouthful of food. He inclined his head to the instrument. “The star demands a dinner show as well.”

Logan stared at him, noting the way his bottom lip was still a bit swollen, giving his mouth a delicious pout. The sweater Julian was wearing was too big, slipping a little over one shoulder and showing off his sharp collarbones and the slight dip beneath his throat, and Logan wanted to kiss him so badly his lips tingled in anticipation.

“Well?” Julian smirked, knowing perfectly well where Logan’s attention had wandered off to and it was part of his charm, Logan guessed, that the dancer didn’t feel self-conscious about that telling fact.

Without another word, Logan grinned and started playing, the piano welcoming his honed talent enthusiastically. When the first chords echoed through the room he noticed Julian’s expression soften immediately.

_My gift is my song... and this one’s for you_  
 _And you can tell everybody that this is your song_  
 _It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done_  
 _I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind_  
 _That I put down in words..._  
 _How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world_

As his voice resonated through the otherwise silent room, Julian put down the rest of his sandwich on the table and moved to quietly sit next to Logan on the little bench. In his peripheral vision Logan could see Julian stare at him, lingering until his eyes shifted to Logan’s fingers playing the piano. His expression was open and curious, and it hit Logan how young he looked.

_I sat on the roof and I kicked off the moss_  
 _Well some of these verses, well they,_  
 _They’ve got me quite cross_  
 _But the sun’s been kind while I wrote this song_  
 _It’s for people like you that keep it turned on_

Julian’s arm sneaked around Logan’s waist—and Logan’s fingers faltered on the keys, just for the shortest, tiniest moment, but they _faltered_ on _his_ keys—and he rested his head on Logan’s shoulder, sighing contently.

_So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do_  
 _You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue_  
 _Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean_  
 _Yours are the sweetest eyes, I've ever seen_

And those sweet, beautiful eyes were aimed right at him now and Logan answered Julian’s wide smile with one of his own. He realized only now that in all those months where he thought he’d found his one true love in Joshua—kind, bohemian Joshua—he’d been so terribly wrong. If he’d come home earlier he would’ve found it right here, in this wild, exciting, headstrong dancer who was looking at him like he was the world.

_And you can tell everybody that this is your song_  
 _It may be quite simple but now that it's done_  
 _I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_  
 _That I put down in words_  
 _How wonderful life is, now you're in the world_  
 _I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_

Logan leaned down and Julian chuckled quietly when Logan’s lips brushed his ear, his voice soft and gentle when he finished the song.

_That I put down in words_ _  
How wonderful life is, now you're in the world_

Their kiss tasted sweet and wonderful and blissfully promising.

 

 

The moon found them hours later, lying side by side on Logan’s small balcony, snuggled up in pillows and blankets and each other —because Julian wanted to see the stars and the rain, and apparently Julian wasn’t used to being denied his wishes. Logan had procured an old heater from somewhere deep in his closet so that despite the cold of the autumn night, they were still warm and comfortable in the heat it radiated.

“Do you smell that?”

Logan turned to Julian, whose eyes were closed as he inhaled deeply. All he could smell was Julian’s familiar scent, but he very much doubted that was what Julian meant. “What?”

“The rain in the air.”

He still looked pale and tired and completely worn out, but a serene peace had settled down on him, and Logan smiled, carding his fingers through brown strands that were still wet from the shower.

“You like the smell of rain?”

“I like the rain,” Julian sighed. “The only thing missing right now are my cigarettes.”

Logan snorted. “That would completely destroy the fresh smell of the rain.”

It would also completely destroy _Julian_ ’s scent, who smelled even more delicious without the cigarette-smoke, but—again—Logan doubted he should bring this up.

Julian shrugged. “It’s comforting.”

“No, it’s disgusting,” Logan glanced at him, only half teasing when he added, “I hate kissing someone who smoked. You people have no idea how gross nicotine tastes to non-smokers.”

Julian pushed himself up on one elbow, the sheets he stole from Logan’s bed slipping down his shoulder and allowing a chilly gust of air to seep underneath. “Are you saying kissing me disgusts you?”

Logan grinned, tugging the sheets closer around them. “Absolutely. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect.”

“I haven’t smoked for at least four hours,” Julian said, his voice lowered to a soft and seducing whisper.

“Well. It might be time to practice, then,” Logan breathed, studying the gorgeous face looking at him. Julian’s eyes were glistening in the failing light, half of his face thrown in shadows, the other half taking on a golden hue from the hot light of the heater. Logan wanted to look at his angelic beauty forever, wanted to memorize everything—from his long, black eyelashes to his full, luscious lips—but Julian laughed and distracted him by pressing his lips to Logan’s.

Logan hummed and he felt Julian’s responding chuckles vibrate through his entire body. He brought up his hands to lay them on Julian’s slender waist and gently guided him on top of him. Julian’s breath hitched and he frowned, trying to remember if the dancer was hurt anywhere else besides his face.

“Are you alright?” he murmured against Julian’s lips.

Julian laughed breathily, hesitating only a split second before nodding. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I’m absolutely—” he kissed Logan again, “completely—” his lips brushed Logan’s jaw, his throat, his collarbones, “ _fine_.”

Cold hands slid underneath Logan’s shirt and his heart jumped when he felt curious fingers examine his body, nails scratching over his skin teasingly. Julian moved back until he sat on Logan’s thighs and he glanced up for a moment before he started kissing the skin just above Logan’s jeans. Logan shuddered, breathing heavily and barely able to repress a groan when Julian’s hand accidentally brushed over his swollen cock in his jeans.

...and why was he still wearing jeans?

Julian’s sweater was discarded easily and he was distracted for a few long seconds as he stared at the dancer’s body, which seemed to emanate a soft glow in the light of the heater. He looked fucking ethereal.

He was brought back to the present by Julian’s loud laughter.

“Did I just say that aloud?” Logan mumbled, tipping up Julian’s face with two fingers under his chin. He met with a wide, arrogant smile.

“Fucking ethereal, huh?”

“ _Fucking_ ethereal,” Logan affirmed and tugged off his own shirt, kissing Julian messily.

Julian’s skilled hands made short work of Logan’s jeans, yanking them down easily, but when Logan hooked his fingers in Julian’s waistband, the dancer stiffened and his hands stilled on Logan’s thighs.

“Jules?”

Mouth curled up in half a smile, Julian shook his head and leaned forward to kiss him again. “It’s nothing.” Logan stopped him, frowning as he first pressed a finger to Julian’s lips, then cupped his face in his hand.

“Tell me.”

“No,” Julian scowled. “I don’t want to.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Diva.”

“Asshole,” Julian retorted, but it was without his usual sharp venom, and he worried his lip between his teeth as he looked at Logan doubtfully.

Logan stroked Julian’s cheek, gently tugging his bottom lip free from his teeth. “Don’t do that. Tell me, Jules.”

Julian seemed to have made up his mind and he sat back with a sigh, straddling Logan’s hips as he played with the hem of Logan’s boxers. “It’s just that, you know, I’m a whore.”

Logan blinked at the blunt announcement. An announcement that wasn’t news to him, but nevertheless, he tried to soothe the beautiful boy currently sitting on him. “Well, I wouldn’t put it like that—”

Julian narrowed his eyes. “Logan, don’t try to sugarcoat it. People pay to have sex with me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Logan sighed. “Listen, Jules. Despite everything Derek may have told you, I’m not an idiot. I know what you do and I don’t mind. Alright?”

“ _How_ does it not matter to you?”

Logan shook his head. “Let me rephrase that. It’s not like I don’t care _at all_ , that wouldn’t be fair to you. I worry about you, because I completely fucking hate Richard and the way you’re treated in that shithole—so yeah, I _worry_. I worry enough to sometimes lie awake at night, thinking about all the people who’re probably touching you and doing God-knows-what with you while I’m too far away to protect you. But if you’re asking me whether I think _less_ of you because of your job? No. Absolutely not. It’s _you_ , Jules. And that kind of makes everything alright. I don’t care what you do for a living, I don’t have to love your job to love you. I love you for _you_.”

Julian blinked at him. He opened his mouth, but he didn’t seem to know what to say and he closed it again, staring at Logan in silent surprise. Logan smirked smugly. He had a feeling that to be rendered speechless was not a regular occurrence for Julian.

“Oh,” Julian whispered eventually. Then, slowly, his face lit up until he was positively beaming and Logan didn’t think he’d ever found him so endearing.

“I never realized you possessed so much wisdom,” Julian breathed, only half teasing.

“Always the tone of surprise,” Logan drawled dryly.

Julian tilted his head to the side, his smile growing mischievous. “Do you have more surprises?”

“I am _full_ of surprises,” Logan said wickedly and this time, Julian allowed him to pull down his sweatpants.

There was only a slight lull in their heated passion, when Logan murmured something about protection and prepping and hurried from under the sheets back into the apartment. Julian was waiting for him when he returned, naked and glorious and laughing when Logan all but dove back in the warmth of the sheets, shivering from head to toe in the cold air. Julian laughed and kissed him warm again and soon enough the numbing chill was replaced by the sweltering heat of two bodies moving feverishly, arms and legs entwined as they grinded together, their muffled groans rising up in the dark night.

After, when they were lying on top of each other, sweaty and exhausted in a delicious sort of way, Logan pushed Julian’s hair back from his eyes and kissed his temple.

“You have to get out of there,” he whispered, his mind racing with a thousand possibilities and futures. He had fallen in love, was in love like he’d never been before, and there was a wildness in his chest and a song in his veins that threatened to burst loose. He was reminded of Derek, who’d always accused his heart of being too big, and had to grudgingly admit that his friend may have been right all along.

Julian turned around, his nose brushing Logan’s and his hair tickling Logan’s cheek. “How?”

“Run away with me,” Logan breathed in his ear. “Run away with me and we’ll go to places you’ve never been before. We’ll go to Europe, I can play and you can dance and we can both sing. Let’s go to Europe.”

Julian’s eyes were wide as he stared at Logan, but after a couple of seconds, a slow smile adorned his moonlit face.

“Really?”

“Yes. Come with me.”

“Okay,” Julian breathed, and even in the dark Logan could see his flushed cheeks and the excitement in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

Logan smiled and Julian laughed and their lips met in a clumsy kiss, the moon their only witness as their hands moved down and their bodies pressed closer yet again.

 

 

Logan woke with a sudden jolt, the glaring light of the sun blinding him when he opened his eyes. There was a sleepy murmur next to him, a quiet protest at being moved around, and when Logan turned his head he looked directly onto a face that was serene and beautiful asleep. Julian was snuggled in Logan’s side, his head resting on his chest and their legs tangled together. Logan buried his nose in Julian’s hair, breathing in slowly and deeply, staying like that for a few minutes and silently enjoying the heat of the sun and the heat of Julian’s soft breaths on his bare skin and the heat of his love.

“Lo?”

He almost startled at Julian’s quiet voice and he smiled, tightening his arms around the dancer’s slender waist.

“Yeah?”

“Are we really going to run away?”

“Do you want to?”

Julian didn’t answer immediately and Logan pulled himself up, smirking when Julian rolled off his chest and into the pillows with a groan. He glared up at him from where he lay—all naked skin and golden eyes—and Logan couldn’t resist to lean down and kiss that scowl off his face.

He was still waiting for an answer, though.

“So? Do you still want to?”

He felt those full lips curl into a smile against his own and Logan’s eyes fluttered shut when Julian answered in a quiet whisper, his warm breath ghosting over Logan’s cheek teasingly.

“Logan,” he said. “I think I would follow you to the end of the world.”

 

 

It was well after noon, almost evening in fact, when they arrived at the _Moulin Rouge_. They were instantly spotted by Derek, who ran over to pull Julian in a rough hug.

“Jules! I heard what happened from the Tweedles—are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Julian smiled and laughed as he glanced over his shoulder at Logan. The sparkle in his eyes distracted from his split lip and the faint redness on one of his cheeks, and it was almost like nothing had happened. 

Derek looked between them and a small smile tugged on the corners of his lips. He turned to Julian with a raised eyebrow. “Night was good?” he asked slyly.

Logan saw the flicker of surprise in Julian’s eyes before it turned to mischief. The dancer smirked at his friend and nodded.

“Night was fine,” he retorted with a grin.

Julian broke loose from Derek to press a lingering kiss on Logan’s lips and to whisper a promise against the sensitive skin. “I’ll see you later, Lo.”

Turning back to Derek, Julian grabbed his friend’s arm and tugged him along as he walked away. “Listen, D, I want to talk to you about something—”

Logan watched Julian walk away, a gentle smile on his face. Right as he wanted to turn around to go back home again, his eyes fell on a man sitting at the bar. He was hunched over his drink, his dark eyes following Julian’s every step, a mean possessiveness glinting in them. Logan felt a vague sense of alarm unfurl in his stomach and it was almost with relief when he spotted the twins. They were staring at the same man, a careful blank look in their icy eyes. They looked up when Logan approached.

“Who’s that?” he asked, jabbing a thumb at the middle-aged man at the bar, who was _still_ glaring at the direction Julian had taken, even when the dancer had long but disappeared behind the curtains. Almost as if the man had heard him, his head snapped up and his dark eyes fixated on Logan himself. Logan answered his stare with narrowed eyes, knowing full well his eyes could emit an anger that would frighten the best of men.

Evan—or Ethan, _whatever_ —raised his eyebrows and whistled lowly.

Ethan shook his head. “This is not good.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked through gritted teeth. He was still in a staring competition with the man at the bar and he was getting horribly impatient with this childish behavior.

“It’s trouble,” Evan said lowly, his expression darkening.

“ _Who is he?_ ” Logan hissed. The man broke off the staring match first, redirecting his attention back to the drink in front of him. “Why is he trouble?”

“It’s a customer,” Ethan sighed.

“One of our richest,” Evan added.

“So he is treated like a king in here, and if we say _king_ —”

“We mean _king_. He gets all the best food and the best drinks and, of course—”

“He gets the best people,” Ethan finished, giving Logan a meaningful look.

Logan watched as the man slammed his empty glass on the bar and stalked away with fast, angry steps. He looked up at the twins with shock.

“You mean...”

“Cheshire.”

“He gets Cheshire.”

“And,” Evan said carefully, glancing at the man. “He doesn’t like it when people steal from him.”

“I’m not stealing _anything_ from him,” Logan started heatedly, but he was stopped by Ethan.

“You are. You’re stealing Cheshire, you’re stealing the attention he gets from Cheshire.”

Logan raised his eyebrows and stared at the man, considering what Julian and he had been talking about earlier today. Or tonight. Time didn’t pass in the _Moulin Rouge_ like it passed in the world outside.

Ethan hummed. “You’re taking him away from here, aren’t you?” he guessed, eyeing him curiously.

Logan’s attention snapped back. “What?”

The Tweedles smirked those creepy twin smiles. “You are,” they sang in unison.

“Good,” Evan added.

“You should go quickly.”

“And please be careful with him.”

“Yes. _Please be careful with him._ ”

“Alright?” Logan said hesitatingly, staring at them with a look of puzzled alarm.

Evan shook his head at Logan’s confusion and glanced at his brother. “I didn’t think Chesh told him, Ethan.”

“Do you think we should tell him?”

“Maybe. Logan needs to know. Before _things_ happen.”

Logan rolled his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. “Please just fucking tell me, because you’re driving me crazy. And I’m not a child. _Things_ have already happened, if we’re talking about the same thing. Which is sex, I assume.”

“Oh?” the twins turned to him so suddenly he nearly took a step backwards. “And he was fine with it?”

Slightly flushed, Logan glared at them. “That’s _none_ of your fucking business.”

The twins glanced at each other before they closed in on Logan. “You need to know something about Cheshire, Logan.”

 “He was... a while ago...”

Logan had never seen either of the twins hesitate before, but it was happening now and he was more confused than ever. When Evan kept getting stuck on his words, he turned to Ethan for answers.

“What happened a while ago?”

Ethan’s eyes softened and a strange sadness descended on him. “A couple of months ago—almost two years ago, actually—Chesh... he wasn’t in a very good place.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked cautiously. His eyes flickered from one twin to the other.

“Something bad happened to him and, you know, cats are prone to run away from bad situations.”

“Don’t let him run away,” Evan demanded, “Cheshire can take good enough care of himself, more or less, but not when he’s in a bad place like that, and he _needs_ people who he can trust. Bottom line is, Logan—can he trust you? Can _we_ trust you to take care of him?”

Logan’s heart leaped in his throat and he felt almost offended at the question. “ _Of course_ ,” he bristled. “I—” he almost choked on the words, but he meant it, goddamnit, he _meant_ it. “I’m in _love_ with him, I _love_ him. Of course he can trust me.”

The twins stared at him for a long time, seemed to study him with their sharp, attentive eyes, and he would’ve squirmed if he wouldn’t be used to these types of gazes from his father. After a minute or two, they seemed to be convinced of his honesty, because there was a warm relief on their faces as they leaned back.

“Good.”

Logan examined them for a few seconds, doubtful he should ask but he was curious now and patience never had been his strongest suit.

“What the _hell_ is this all about?”

Today seemed to be a day of firsts, because he’d never seen the twins look nervous until now. They were shifting on their feet and they glanced at each other before they nodded.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell you this himself,” Ethan started carefully.

“Tell me _what?_ ” Logan asked slowly, as if he was speaking to a mentally impaired person.

Evan inhaled, looked at Ethan for support and nodded when he found it. He glanced around, seemingly to make sure they were alone (which they were, the abandoned nightclub still so very strange to Logan), and leaned forward.

“Almost two years ago,” Evan said. “Julian was raped.”

The words were like a punch in his stomach.

The entire world shifted, feeling twisted and wrong, and Logan couldn’t _imagine_ , in this world or in _any_ other world, that someone could be that cruel, that someone would hurt Julian— _his_ Julian—that much. His breath left him with a soft gasp and he stared at the twins with wide, startled eyes. That stupid nervousness and annoying concern made _so much sense_ now. Somewhere in this daze, their voices filtered through.

“He thought it was a friend and he let his guards down.”

They didn’t need to continue. Logan had been blessed with a vivid imagination and he could picture perfectly well how Julian had finally decided to give someone his trust and opened up. He could picture the attacker taking that trust and with it Julian’s warm heart and his bright spirit and his entire body, taking it and taking it and taking it until it was no longer Julian’s at all and—and—and—

He closed his eyes tiredly and dragged his hands down his face.

_Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh damn. So, I'm gonna go and hide now.  
> Please share your thoughts, cause I need some reassurance people still read it and like where this is going ^^


	6. Come Out and Rescue Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Logan have a much needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of the Big Bang was a week ago and I made the word count! Whoo! My endless gratitude goes out to Judith for her betaing and support and Steph for making amazing art and motivating me :) Thanks ladies, it was awesome working together :)
> 
> Anyway, this story will continue. To everyone who took the time and effort to leave comments or kudos or anything--thank you so much! You're awesome and I love it :)

“We have to be honest with each other.”

Julian raised an eyebrow and looked at him from where he sat, cross-legged on an elevated part of the brick floor in Oasis. He breathed out a swirling cloud of grey smoke and held the cigarette, gracefully pinched between his index and middle finger, away from his face.

“What do you mean?”

Leaning against one of the walls surrounding the little courtyard, Logan crossed his arms and tilted his head as he studied Julian with an intense gaze. To his credit, Julian never flinched, his expression steady and calm as usual as he answered Logan’s stare. The evening sun painted a halo of light around his body and Logan felt a hot desire seep in his veins and bones, but he clenched his fists and kept standing where he was.

“I mean,” he said, “that since we’re planning to run away together, we should at least know each other better.”

Julian studied him for a long minute, his expression unreadable until he broke out a tiny, calculated smile. “I know you,” he drawled carefully and his expression grew warmer now. “I know what music you like, which is why I keep stealing your iPod. I know how light your heart feels when you’re making music, because you look beautiful when you do. I know you like your coffee without any sugar and milk, but it doesn’t really matter if it’s in there, because you drink if purely for comfort and caffeine.”

Logan snorted, unimpressed. “That’s all very nice, Jules, but do you know who my parents are? If I have siblings? Where I’m from? And I know you’re from LA and how you got here, but that’s about it.”

Julian cocked his head and examined Logan exaggeratedly, pointing to his clothes with his lit cigarette, a waft of smoke following his gesturing hand. “You’re either stealing those clothes or you have a lot of money, and since you don’t _look_ like a thief, your parents are probably rich. No siblings. And New York, obviously.” He smiled sweetly. “What’s my score?”

“My dad’s the Senator.”

Julian nearly choked on the next drag from his cigarette. Coughing, he looked up at Logan with wide eyes. “No shit,” he croaked.

Smirking, Logan finally pushed away from the wall and walked toward the dancer, sitting opposite of him and leaning back against an old fountain. He folded his arms over his pulled up knees and tried to ignore the burning scent of the filthy smoke when he leaned closer to Julian.

“Yeah. My parents are divorced, I haven’t seen or spoken with my mom in years. I live with my dad, who is the Senator.”

“Damn,” Julian whispered. “My parents aren’t nearly as exciting as that.”

“Tell me?”

“My parents got divorced when I was eleven, got into this huge custody battle, and eventually I got to stay with my mom. But obviously, my dad’s still very much involved in my career,” he added wryly.

Logan looked at him, watching silently as Julian tried to lock his sadness behind iron walls, and decided to carefully tread closer to the subject he _actually_ wanted to talk about.

If anyone ever said Logan was blunt and direct and unsubtle again, he was going to punch them in the face. He had actually _thought_ this conversation _through_ and, to be honest, he was infinitely proud of himself.

“Have you ever had a relationship while you were here?”

Julian looked up sharply, surprised and wary.

Well, Logan had never claimed to be an expert in subtlety.

He tried to soften the blow. “I mean, I know you stole my best friend and everything, but was there anyone else?”

This time, Julian snorted and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t _steal_ any best friends, Derek came practically running to me. You completely abandoned him.”

Suppressing a wince—and alright, maybe he’d deserved that one—Logan reached out to take Julian’s hand, his thumb rubbing circles over the soft skin. “Jules.”

“What?” Julian’s voice had taken on a sharp edge, a distinctive warning for Logan to tread carefully.

Instead of delving into Julian’s personal life, Logan decided to share more about his own. “When I was in Europe I had a boyfriend,” he murmured and he felt the muscles in Julian’s hand stiffen, his fingers tangling into Logan’s. “His name was Joshua.”

“Oh,” Julian said casually, taking a last drag from his cigarette and dropping the finished butt to the ground. He looked like he was going for another one, but Logan kept his hand in both of his so the dancer was forced to sit still and listen. “And?”

“And,” Logan continued and damn, thinking about Joshua still _stung_. “We broke up, obviously. It was a bad break up. I did something stupid and... you know.”

Julian’s expression didn’t waver and he gave Logan a blank stare. “No. I _don’t_ know.”

So Logan sighed and decided that he was an idiot for trying to do this subtly, because this was obviously _not_ his thing and now he was forced to share his own stories and damn—he didn’t _want_ to. But it was only fair if he wanted to know Julian’s, he guessed, so he took a deep breath and continued.

“Well, I have this thing where I need to take meds,” he watched Julian’s face closely for any reaction, but the dancer blinked calmly at him and didn’t give anything away. “This thing where I get really fucking angry sometimes and it’s like this burning... this burning electricity and I can’t think straight when it happens. When I get angry like that, everything tends to fall apart all around me and I keep losing important things.” He looked down, but in his peripheral vision he saw Julian’s eyes soften and he felt slender fingers constrict around his hands. “And I take medication to make me feel less.”

“And this boyfriend, Joshua, couldn’t handle it?”

Logan huffed. “I guess _I_ couldn’t really handle him watching me as if I was a ticking time bomb, so I confronted him about it and...” he pictured Joshua with his guitar and his dark hair and his wide eyes, yelling at him—the first and only time Joshua had raised his voice against him—for taking his medications and not putting up with this shit anymore. “And things didn’t go too well.”

Julian hummed an understanding. “Alright.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” Logan said quietly. “I walked away, because I _wanted_ to hurt him in that moment, you know.” And despite that Julian didn’t know, _couldn’t_ know, he nodded sympathetically anyway. Logan loved him for it. “So I walked away, but traveling alone was different and difficult after months of traveling and playing together. I flew home a couple of weeks after.”

Julian’s lips twitched. “You should’ve come home earlier.”

It was so similar to Logan’s own thoughts that he couldn’t help but smile. He lifted Julian’s hand and pressed a hot kiss in his palm. “Probably.”

“The minute you saw Derek’s card, you should’ve come home, actually,” Julian said, considering. “How can you see me in a picture and not immediately want to be in my presence?”

“Your modesty is truly astounding,” Logan said dryly.

Julian shrugged easily. “I know.”

Logan laughed and tugged Julian closer so he could steal a kiss off his lips. Leaning back again, a comfortable silence descended on them, their hands entwined as they simply basked in each other’s presence and the soothing warmth of the sun on their skin.

As the silence lingered on, Logan watched Julian’s face closely—studying his pink lips and his downcast eyes and the long lashes that threw shadows over his pale cheeks—and he could see that the dancer was struggling with something. It still came as a surprise when Julian decided to speak up.

“I should probably tell you something, too,” Julian said, his eyes flickering up to meet Logan’s, but quickly darting back to stare at their hands. “If we’re being honest with each other.”

“Alright,” Logan said, his stomach clenching painfully tight. _This is where you wanted to go_ , he reminded himself, _so suck it up and hear him out_.

“So,” Julian started, turning Logan’s hand over and absently tracing patterns on his palm. “There was this guy,” he broke off, frowning, and Logan could see how much effort it cost to talk about this. He wondered if Julian had ever talked about it or if he’d kept it hidden away, allowing it to fester within like a raw, open wound.

“There was this guy,” Julian continued, “who was completely obsessed with me. And I’m not talking about _unrequited love_ or _fan-like admiration_ , I’m talking about full-blown stalker-issues. He was jealous of everyone I had sex with, even though he _knew_ what my job was.” Julian hesitated again, blinked and looked at Logan with glistening eyes. “But the thing is... he’d send me all these threats and everything, but I didn’t know _who_ send it to me. So when he introduced himself to me for the first time, I didn’t even know he was the stalker, you know. He was just some random guy, who seemed nice enough. So we started talking and sort of seeing each other, not that I was in love or anything, but it was a nice distraction. Everything was just sort of,” Julian faltered, one hand waving through the air dismissively, “everything sort of sucked at the time.”

Logan watched as Julian’s expression shuttered for a few seconds and his admiration for the dancer grew exponentially when Julian smiled humorlessly and continued.

“Like I said, he had the tendency to get extremely jealous. Every night he would send me texts or he would call me to make sure I would give him some attention. It was his way to check up on me, I guess. One night I was so _tired_ after work I slept through his texts and his calls, and he got angry and came to the _Moulin Rouge_. He barged into my room, yanked the sheets from my bed, and he—he _forced_ himself on me.” He fell silent for a short moment, his eyes downcast, and Logan might lack empathy, but he could feel Julian’s heartache as if it was his own. Eventually, Julian continued, his voice quiet and vulnerable. “It hurt. It was awful and demeaning and humiliating and I can still smell his breath on me and feel his stupid dyed blond hair on my skin. It hurt so much, but no one came to check on me, no one heard us yell and scream, and yet everyone knew about it a few days after.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked at Logan, his eyes wet and dark in the setting sun. There was an inner fire behind the sepia irises, blazing luminous and defiant, and Logan felt a surge of unadulterated pride for this strong and stubborn boy, who’d been dealt such a shitty hand in life but still burned so brightly.

“So I ran away,” Julian told him. “Because I figured if no one cared enough to check up on me they wouldn’t miss me anyway. I was wrong, obviously,” he admitted with a dark, half-hearted grin. “The Tweedles went looking for me and when they found me they dragged me back so they could look after me. Of course, that just made things worse, because Richard was not happy I’d disappeared like that.”

Julian blinked, sighed and gestured to himself with one hand. “And the inextricable truth is that I’ve never auditioned for Broadway or anything else, not only because Richard refuses to support me, but also because there’s no way any self-respecting director would hire an actor who’s as broken and used and damaged as me.” He paused for a few heartbeats and Logan could only stare at him in silence, feeling as if the floor had dropped from underneath his feet and he hadn’t yet figured out how to _fly_.

Julian huffed a breathy laugh. “And I’ve never told anyone else this, so you’d better not fucking leave now that you know it all. I will haunt your fucking soul, Logan. I swear to everything I own.”

A slow, grim smile spread over Julian’s face as Logan continued to stare at the dancer, speechless and shocked and endlessly sad. “Cat got your tongue?” Julian asked succinctly.

Cat got his tongue indeed and Logan swallowed, numb hands squeezing Julian’s cold ones. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Julian’s expression instantly fell, his fake smile melting underneath a heavy anguish. Untangling their fingers, Logan reached up to cup Julian’s face in his hands and watched as sepia eyes fluttered shut. He realized with a sudden jolt that Julian’s trust didn’t come easily and for him to _have_ it... he felt an indescribable gratitude for Julian taking this monumental risk— _again_ , for someone he hadn’t even known for so long—and mentally promised himself to never let him regret it.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he said and pulled Julian in his embrace, feeling the slender body relax in his arms. “But Jules,” Julian frowned at the whispered nickname and a few tears escaped, trailing lazily down his cheeks. Logan brushed them away with his thumbs. “Jules, you have to understand that you’re not broken or damaged or used. What happened to you doesn’t define you and you shouldn’t let it stop you from auditioning, because I’m a thousand percent sure you’d be the best actor in the world, if you’d put your mind to it.”

Julian wrinkled his nose, sniffing. “Even better than Johnny Depp?”

Logan couldn’t help but snort. “I admire your ambition, but you should probably aim a little lower at first. But you know what, in time, sure. Why the hell not. _Even_ better than Johnny Depp.”

Logan was rewarded with Julian finally opening his eyes, laughing with tears in his voice.

“Now,” Logan added seriously, still holding Julian against his chest.“This...” – _monster, criminal, dead man walking_ — “ _person_. I hope he’s locked up somewhere in the shittiest prison the universe has to offer?”

To his utter and complete bewilderment, Julian shook his head.

“And _why not?_ ” he asked icily, pulling away so he could really look at Julian.

“Because of Richard,” Julian answered, sounding defeated. “He forbade me from pressing charges. Would be all up in the media and he couldn’t use the bad publicity.”

He’d been doing _so well_ on his temper lately, but this time Logan couldn’t control the fury coursing through him, wild and agonizing. “ _Bad publicity_?” he repeated heatedly. He pushed Julian away and moved to stand up. “That’s it. I’m going to fucking _murder_ him.”

“Logan, wait,” Julian scrambled up after him, grabbing Logan’s sleeve and pulling him to a stop. “ _Wait_.”

But Logan was blunt and direct—really, _fuck_ subtlety—and when he had his mind set on something, he was a force of nature to be reckoned with and nothing could stop him.

Except...

“ _Logan_.”

Well, except Julian apparently, because the dancer stepped deftly in Logan’s way and set his hands flat on Logan’s chest, stopping him effectively.

“ _Listen to me_ ,” he snapped and there was a blazing expression on his face even as Logan glared at him with all of his righteous anger. “Don’t provoke him.”

No one besides Derek had ever braved his anger and here he was, Julian, dried up tear tracks on his cheeks and eyes still bright and glistening and here he was, absolutely unfazed in the glare of Logan’s biting fury.

It lessened the fire in his veins, but it did nothing to quell his overwhelming concern. Logan placed his hands on either side of Julian’s face, touching his cheeks, his throat, letting his thumbs linger on his collarbones.

“You can’t mean that. That fucking— _fucking asshole_ just _let this happen to you_ and he did _nothing_. As the fucking owner of this fucked up nightclub he’s supposed to be protecting you, but he did _nothing_ and you got _hurt_ —”

Julian’s cold hands circled around Logan’s wrists and he straightened up defiantly. “Yes,” he said, a bitter edge to his voice. “Yes, I got hurt. And yes, Richard did nothing to stop it and did nothing after it was done—but you beating him up won’t solve anything. Richard has a social network even your dad would be surprised by. He knows people who are dangerous and I don’t want _you_ to get hurt. Especially not because of me.”

“I don’t care,” Logan announced and the other boy must’ve sensed he was pulling away, because Julian leaned forward and pressed a desperate kiss on Logan’s mouth.

“I care,” he whispered hotly. “I _care_. And one of us getting hurt is more than enough.”

Logan closed his eyes and held Julian against him, resting his hands on the dancer’s waist, burying his nose in his neck. He sighed. “But...”

“No,” Julian said determinedly. “Don’t ‘but’ me. Don’t be an idiot. We’re leaving anyway, Logan. We’re leaving anyway.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed, this promising future the only thing grounding him, the only thing keeping him from beating the shit out of Richard and anyone else who’d dared to touch Julian. “We’re leaving anyway.”

Julian pushed at Logan until he relented and let himself be lead to the middle of Oasis again, where they sat down, Julian leaning against Logan’s chest.

“We’re leaving anyway,” Julian repeated in a dreamy murmur and he rested his head on Logan’s shoulder. “In a couple of days, right? When we’ve packed all our shit and arranged everything.”

Logan heaved a shuddering breath, trying to dislodge the distracting hatred for Richard and only _just_ succeeding. He nodded. “Yes. In a couple of days.”

The last rays of today’s light bled through the buildings surrounding the courtyard, blessing them with the rare warmth of an autumn sun, and they silently relished in it until night came and swallowed the sunlight whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading!


	7. Burn It Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change of POV! Time to hear a bit of Derek's thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't betaed, because the Big Bang is over and I've decided to not bother anyone else with this story. So all mistakes are mine.  
> Song is Tonight from Rent.

Derek smirked at the young woman on the other side of the bar, winking as he shoved a tequila her way.

“From the house,” he yelled over the booming music, watching as the woman smiled seductively at him. Their eye contact was broken when someone slung an arm around his shoulders and forced him to turn around. Irritably he looked over, sighing when he saw a familiar grin. He pushed his friend away from him and ignored the low chuckle from the other boy.

“I thought you and Casey were a thing?” Julian asked teasingly, leaning back against the sink of the bar and lazily twirling a glass filled till the brim with Purple Poison.

“We are a thing,” Derek responded easily, flicking a bottle in the air and neatly filling a row of shot glasses for a group of cheering students. “But I can look, can I? I know _she_ looks,” he shot Julian a glare. “Mostly at _you_ whenever she’s here.”

Derek shook his head when Julian beamed, a wicked smirk on his face as he shrugged, his skin glowing golden in the swirling lights of the _Moulin Rouge_. He nudged Julian aside with his elbow and shoved some glasses in the water to clean them, glancing at the dancer who was sipping from his Parfait d’Amour.

“I bet Logan looks at others all the time,” Derek said slyly, smirking when his friend snorted in protest.

“Who’s he gonna look at when he can look at _me_?” Julian retorted, sounding so completely full of himself that Derek couldn’t help but laugh. “You watch me closely tonight and see for yourself why that’s an absolutely stupid thought.” He clapped Derek on his shoulder, smiling widely, and winked as he set down his empty glass. “And in the meantime, try to keep your pants on and your legs closed, yes?”

“Why don’t you try to keep your nose out of my business?” Derek suggested succinctly.

Julian raised his eyebrows as if he was shocked by the mere idea and shook his head. “Impossible.”

“Why do you care so much about my relationship with Casey anyway?”

“Since I’ve discovered that I sleep very well when you’re not bothering me with your relationship problems,” Julian said, his hand on his heart as if he truly and honestly meant it. He turned to walk away, but Derek grabbed his shirt and pulled him back, ignoring his impatient customers when he laid an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“You’re really going to leave me, aren’t you, Jules?”

All the sharpness and teasing disappeared at once and there was an apologetic glint in his sepia eyes when Julian looked at him. He nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, almost too soft to hear over the loud music. “I am.”

Derek shook his head at the apology in his voice and he smiled, hoping Julian could see how happy—how utterly excited—he was for his best friend. “Good for you, Jules. It’s about time.”

Derek ruffled his hair and pushed him away, smiling fondly at Julian’s laughter. “And now get out of my bar. Good luck tonight, Jules.”

Grinning, Julian sauntered away. “Last clients!” he said happily, meeting Derek’s stare over his shoulder.

“Last clients,” Derek agreed as he watched Julian disappear behind the heavy curtains.

He shook his head again and finally started serving the impatient people who were demanding drinks at this point. It was an automatism to take the order, search the right bottle, pour it in the right glass and exchange it for money. It was an automatism born out of months of doing the same thing day in and day out, and so he allowed his thoughts to wander.

There were a few bright spots in Derek’s life, things of life he depended on to always be there, and they consisted of his little sister, Logan, Casey and, the newest addition, Julian. Out of four, two of them had been miserable for such a long time Derek had been pushed to the brink of desperation, worrying and fretting because that was what he _did_ and who else would worry about them? He’d never in his wildest dreams imagined Logan to take so fully to the gracious and bitchy dancer, and he’d never expected Julian to answer to the musicians advances so enthusiastically—but he was beyond grateful they were finally smiling and laughing again like they truly meant it.

He nearly tipped over a glass when the music cut off with a sharp _shriek_ and then returned with a vengeance: drums and electric guitars and Julian, wearing his usual leather and arrogant attitude, strutting over the stage in his heavy, laced boots. His heart skipped when his friend opened his mouth and sang the first few lines.

_What’s the time?_   
_Well it’s gotta be close to midnight_   
_My body’s talking to me_   
_It says, time for danger_

He looked up in surprise, his eyes wide. He’d _never_ heard Julian sing before on his performances. Over the last year he had watched his friend dance and wink and shout profanities and seducing slurs, but he’d never once heard him sing.

(One warm summer night, when Julian was slumped drunk and miserable against his shoulder and Derek smoothed the hair from his face and tried to distract him from memories, the twins had told him that Julian used to sing, before.)

_It says, I wanna commit a crime_   
_Wanna be the cause of a fight_   
_I wanna put on a tight skirt_   
_And flirt with a stranger_

Julian’s eyes were fixed on a spot somewhere in his captivated audience and when Derek followed his stare he saw Logan, blond hair shining in the spotlights, eyes glowing as he watched Julian perform.

Julian winked and smiled a smile he only gave his closest friends and he practically glowed when Logan answered back with a grin of his own. Julian moved to one of the poles, pressing his body against the metal, twirling his slender body around it and growling out the lines in a husky, warm voice.

_I've had a knack from way back_   
_At breaking the rules once I learn the games_   
_Get up! Life's too quick, I know someplace sick_   
_Where this chick'll dance in the flames_

_We don't need any money_  
 _I always get in for free_  
 _You can get in too  
_ _If you get in with me_

Julian gestured to his body, the lights reflecting off the sleek lines and sharp edges and seductive curves, and even Derek—who was as straight as they come—felt something fiery simmer in the bottom of his abdomen. A few guys sitting at the bar were talking about the dancer and they were laughing as they were drinking, and Derek picked up one particular sentence that made his blood boil.

“I want to fuck that so hard and so long he wouldn’t know what hit him.”

He refocused on serving drinks—customers lessening now their attention was so fixated on the stage—and wanted to punch everyone who was even thinking about his friend like that.

On the stage, Julian was dancing with the brightest smile on his face and a heat in his voice Derek was sure Logan had put there. Julian stared right at Logan when he pressed his crotch against the pole and slid down on his knees, bending backwards and belting out the lyrics.

_Let's go out tonight_   
_I have to go out tonight_   
_You wanna play? Let's run away_   
_We won't be back before it's New Year's Day_

_Take me out tonight, meow_  
 _When I get a wink from the doorman_  
 _Do you know how lucky you'll be?  
_ _That you're on line with the feline_

_Of Avenue B_  
 _Let's go out tonight_  
 _I have to go out tonight_  
 _You wanna prowl, be my night owl?_  
 _Well take my hand we're gonna howl  
_ _Out tonight_

The music slowed a bit and Julian crawled to the edge of the stage, allowing people to touch him, receiving the money they shoved down his clothes without batting an eye. His voice rang out, clear as day in this crowded nightclub, and Derek felt shivers run up and down his spine, never imagining Julian’s singing could touch his heart the same way Logan’s music had always done.

He was struck by the thrilling realization that these two—his _best friends_ —really and truly _belonged_ together.

_In the evening I've got to roam_   
_Can't sleep in the city of neon and chrome_   
_Feels too damn much like home_   
_When the Spanish babies cry_

Julian had found the pole on the other side of the stage and he pressed his back against it, his shirt riding up and showing the sharp V-line that disappeared in his jeans and the golden skin stretched tight over his abdomen. His voice swelled in volume and when Derek glanced at his other best friend, he noticed Logan had his head tilted to one side, enchanted in a completely different way than the other people in the crowd, and the love in his eyes was hot and true and unconditional.

Julian had eyes for no one else.

_So let's find a bar_   
_So dark we forget who we are_   
_Where all the scars_   
_From the nevers and maybes die_

_Let's go out tonight_   
_I have to go out tonight_   
_You're sweet, wanna hit the street?_   
_Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?_

Dragging himself to his feet, Julian pressed his body—glistening with sweat, muscles rippling underneath his skin—against the pole and ran his hands through his dark hair.

_Just take me out tonight_  
 _Please take me out tonight_  
 _Don't forsake me, out tonight_  
 _I'll let you make me out tonight  
_ _Tonight, tonight, tonight_

The lights died down and the last Derek saw was Logan turning around and pushing through the crowd toward the inviting, red curtains. When the lights flashed back on, the stage was empty and the blond singer was gone.

“They’re really going to run away, aren’t they?” a voice asked languidly.

Derek’s attention snapped back to his bar and he smirked when he saw who was hanging on the table, glass in hand and wide, dark eyes fixed on him. Brown hair framed a round face, falling in waves down thin shoulders, the strands brushing teasingly over the slight curve of her breasts, and Derek felt the familiar pull of attraction he felt for every attractive woman.

(He knew to hold back, though. Trying to charm this particular female had resulted in a bloody nose and sore ribs and a threat from a boyfriend who was in the army, so Derek didn’t even dare look at her wrong again.)

She smiled innocently and pushed her empty glass forward. “Can I have your Purple Poison, please?”

He obeyed instantly, filling her glass till the brim with Parfait d’Armour and nudging it back in her long, slender fingers. “Merril,” he said as a greeting. “Don’t you have to work tonight?”

Merril flicked her hair back and shook her head with a small smile. “No. Spencer is here and I’m off for this weekend.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “So? Are they really leaving?”

Derek pursed his lips and forced down the painful fear spurred on by the prospect of losing his best friends. _It won’t be forever_ , he reminded himself. _It will never be forever_. He swallowed thickly. “They’re planning to, yes.”

Merril narrowed her eyes, studying him. “You’re not going with them?”

“No. Casey’s mother is still sick and...” Derek frowned. “I think she would quite literally kill me if I’d leave her to go to Europe.”

“And she’d make it look like an accident, too,” Merril agreed heartily. “But who’s going to keep those two idiots sane, then?” She lifted the glass to her lips and drank half of its contents in one go. She raised her eyebrows. “They need you, Derek.”

“Yes, well,” Derek sighed, well aware of that fact himself. “Casey needs me more right now and I like her rewards better. Those two idiots will have to learn how to handle shit without me.”

Merril studied him over her glass. “Are you sure Logan knows what he’s beginning here?”

“What do you mean?” Derek asked with narrowed eyes. “Julian is—”

“Yes, we all know what Julian is,” Merril interrupted him. “And just now, behind the curtains, I heard Logan ask Julian how he can still have sex with strangers when he was raped.”

Derek’s eyes widened. “He knows?”

“He knows. And when Julian said it was his job, Logan still didn’t understand.”

Groaning, Derek dragged a hand down his face. “Please tell me they’re not fighting. _Fuck_ , how does he _know_?”

Merril shrugged and hopped from the barstool, taking her drink with her. “They’re not fighting, surprisingly. Maybe they’ve actually _talked_ about this, Derek. Talking is something essential in a relationship, you know.”

Derek shot her a withering glare, but before he could respond, Merril already continued.

“But I have a dark suspicion the Tweedles know more about bringing up this particular event.”

“The Tweedles—”

“Yep,” Merril waved her fingers at him and smirked. “Good luck, Derek. Bye bye.” She sauntered off to a dark corner where Spencer was surely hiding and Derek groaned again.

“ _Fuck_.”

 

The minute the nightclub closed and the people were heading out, Derek bolted. When he shoved the curtains aside he immediately collided with the twins and his heart filled with rage even as his stomach clenched with concern.

 “What did you tell him?” he hissed and he shoved Ethan into Evan.

Evan glared at him. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You had _no right_ ,” Derek continued and he wanted to punch them _so badly_ , but he restrained himself and pushed them out of the way instead. “I’m not finished with you two,” he reminded them as he walked past them.

Ethan scoffed. “If you’re talking about Julian, you don’t have to worry at all—”

“And Logan has a right to _know_ ,” Evan added quickly.

But Derek didn’t care and didn’t listen and he hurried to Julian’s room, afraid that he’d find his friend upset and smoking and pretending everything was alright when it really wasn’t, behaving like he always did when the memories and nightmares hung over him like dark thunderclouds threatening to break loose.

What he didn’t expect, when he arrived at Julian’s door and found it slightly ajar, was the quiet voice of Logan and the image of them sitting on Julian’s bed. Julian was visibly upset and there was a glassy emptiness in his eyes that had never failed to break Derek’s heart, but Logan was holding him in his arms and his lips were brushing Julian’s ear and his soft, warm voice filled the room with a beautiful, gentle song.

Derek stared at them from the door and as if his presence was tangible in the air like the tenderness in Logan’s song seemed to be, Logan’s head snapped up. They locked eyes, even when Logan didn’t stop singing and Julian didn’t notice a thing, cuddled up in Logan’s arms with teary eyes and flushed cheeks. Derek’s eyes darted from Julian to Logan, grateful that even after a year apart their ability to carry out silent conversations was still easy and effortless.

Derek inclined his head. _Everything alright?_

Logan frowned. _Could be better._

Derek raised his eyebrows. _You need help?_

Logan’s lips twitched and he shook his head minutely, his arms tightening around Julian possessively.

That was a loud and clear _no, I got this_ and Logan looked comfortable enough with soothing their upset friend for Derek to actually believe him _._ He wondered whether Logan had picked up empathy somewhere during traveling or if this was a trait brought forth simply from hanging out with Julian, who was able to pry loose all kinds of hidden emotions from anyone.

Derek glanced over his shoulder to the dark corridor and narrowed his eyes. His hands clenched in fists. _You want me to kill the Tweedles?_

Biting back a grin, Logan shrugged. _Why the hell not._

Derek snorted and shook his head, giving Julian a last look before he slowly backed away.

Killing the Tweedles would have to wait, however, because just as he rounded the next corner his phone started ringing. When he picked up Casey’s voice filtered through, hitting his heart and eliciting a heartfelt smile.

“Hey Case.”

“Do you want to come over to my place tonight?” Casey asked.

“Do you miss me?” he asked teasingly, but he’d already turned around and made his way to the exit of the _Moulin Rouge_ , not needing a bag because most of his stuff was at her apartment anyway.

She scoffed on the phone. “Of course not. But it’s cold outside and it’s cold in my bed and I’d like you to warm me up. So hurry up before I freeze to death.”

“I’ll try, babe,” Derek assured her, already out the door, wrapping his vest closer around his body and braving the autumn air to get to her.

“Try harder,” was her cynical answer, “If I freeze here to death, you’ll be responsible. Do you want to be responsible for my death, Derek?”

Derek laughed and was suddenly filled with so much love for her, his chest expanding as his heart burned up. He thought about Julian and Logan, how much they were in love with each other and how much he was going to _miss_ them when they would leave, and he almost choked.

“I love you,” he whispered, and it was only after the words slipped from his lips that he realized it was the first time he’d dared to say this to her.

It was silent for a few seconds on the other side of the phone and Derek could only hear her soft breaths. He closed his eyes and imagined her lips touching his cheeks and his nose and his own lips.

“Derek,” Casey sounded serious and he was almost afraid to hear what she was going to say.

God, he was so _stupidly_ in love with her.

“Derek,” Casey breathed again. “I love you, too.”

If he didn’t fully believe her on the phone, he would when he finally arrived at the apartment. He lifted her up and she wrapped his legs around his waist and he peppered her face with kisses until she was giggling and couldn’t kiss him back anymore. Then he laid her on her bed and repeated himself over and over and over, and she smiled and laughed and took his face in her hands and responded with the same three words.

_I love you._

_I love you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate begging for reviews so I'm not going to do that, but I would be so happy to hear something from you. At this point I'm kind of wondering why I'm still continuing this story, cause I'm not sure anyone's reading? ^^;  
> Anyway, if you're reading this and liking it--thanks! I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts.


	8. On With The Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to unravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely comments! It means the world to me and it really does keep me motivated to continue this fic :D So thanks so much! I wish I could gift you with a happier chapter, but unfortunately, this one is not it. Most of you were expecting shit to go down soon, so here you go, you're completely right.  
> This chapter isn't betaed, like the last one, so any mistakes are my responsibility and I apologize in advance.

Julian was in love.

He had never known what love felt like, had never fallen for someone this deeply before, and his entire world was whirling with glorious hurt and addictive yearning. He was wandering through unknown lands, discovering rivers of new emotions, mountains of unfamiliar senses, even the sky different than he was used to and it was an entirely foreign adventure. It was exhilarating, excitement wrapped around anticipation, and he had _never_ felt like this before.

He’d never wondered before about the heavy weight in his chest, as if their love was a galaxy made of the explosive expansion of their hearts, and he would never stop admiring Logan for the amount of love he continued to give Julian. Because Logan’s love was like the universe itself, immeasurable and immense, giving and giving and giving as if from a bottomless well and Julian sometimes felt overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

Intensity, Julian had discovered, was something Logan seemed to be made of entirely. Logan did nothing halfway and it was reflected in his loving. At night, he could only think about Logan’s brilliant smiles and the vivid passion smoldering deep in his green eyes whenever he looked at Julian.

He wasn’t sure if he deserved everything, had still not entirely figured out if he was even worth this kind of infinite admiration, but it made him feel weightless, like he could fly, and that was something amazing. That was something addictive.

After all, he had always dreamed of wings to carry him out of here.

Watching the smoke from his cigarette spiral up from where he was lying sprawled out on the bed, Julian couldn’t help but admit to himself that he’d always been prone to addiction. And, well, Logan was as at least a healthy one. He looked up, staring at a ceiling he’d memorized over the last five years, and laughed delightedly.

“I’m insane,” he whispered, wisps of smoke escaping from his parted lips and curling up above his head, allowing him to believe that was the reason for his hazy vision and not—certainly _not_ —sudden tears.  “I’m _actually_ insane.”

Tomorrow they would leave. Tomorrow _he_ would leave this horrid place, which had captured him and imprisoned him for so long.

He was the dramatic type, Derek had often enough pointed out that unfortunate trait, and he cursed himself for it, now that five years of bottled up memories surged to the surface and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

After all these years of endlessly giving himself completely—giving _everything_ until he felt hollowed out and useless and absolutely empty—he’d finally found someone who was willing to borrow him pieces of himself until he was whole again. Logan had so much to give Julian couldn’t help taking everything he offered, grateful and humbled as he tried to fill all of that black, cold space with the burning heat of Logan’s love.

And tomorrow...

Tomorrow they would _leave_.

Julian pushed his head back in the mattress and closed his eyes, trying to control the agonizing impatience simmering inside of him, thinking he might actually break from the tension in his muscles.

He was finally free, after _all this time_ there was finally the opportunity to walk away. The relief was too much, flooding from his chest through his body, materializing in tears running over his cheeks. He lifted the cigarette with a trembling hand and inhaled slowly.

Freedom was so close he could taste it on the tip of his tongue, could hear it in the echoes his heartbeats left behind in his chest, could feel it in the hitch of his breath in his throat.

The smoke escaped his lips as he laughed, dancing up towards that infamous ceiling and he followed the pearly wisps until they’d dissolved in the air entirely.

 

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

Julian whirled around at the familiar voice, heart pounding in his chest even as he was sure to plaster on a calm expression when he looked up at Richard. The owner of the _Moulin Rouge_ glared at him through narrowed eyes, a raging thunderstorm on his face as he took in the bags that were standing haphazardly on the floor.

Julian straightened from where he’d been rummaging through his strewn out belongings on the desk. “I’m packing.”

“Yes,” Richard sneered. “I’ve heard the rumors.”

Julian stared at him and felt the hope in his heart dim a little at the expression on Richard’s face. It was an expression of tired amusement, one of annoyed aggravation, and it struck Julian how _offended_ he felt. As if this was all a child’s game, as if this was doomed to fail anyway and Richard was merely playing along to humor him.

“Dear Cheshire,” Richard started, shaking his head. “ _Dear Cheshire_ , let’s be real here. You’re not going anywhere.”

Julian’s lips curled up in a snarl. “ _Fuck you_ ,” he snapped.

This seemed to do the trick and the vague amusement was wiped away from Richard’s face, making place for a fierce anger. He advanced on Julian and grabbed his arm in a bruising grip. “Despite what others may have told you, you still belong _here_ , you still belong to _me_. And _you_ are absolutely _not_ leaving.”

Trying to ignore the pain that flared through his arm, Julian managed to momentarily control the fury on his face and faked a blinding smile.

“Ah well. You know how much I love to run away from my problems, Richard.”

“And who’s your fucking problem?”

Julian’s smile faded and he narrowed his eyes, yanking his arm free and stepping back. “You. _You_ are my fucking problem, Richard.”

Richard scoffed. “Oh, please.”

“You’ve promised me things over and over and over and you’ve never acted on them and you’re a fucking _liar_ and I am _done_ ,” Julian hissed venomously.

Richard remained completely unfazed and he crossed his arms almost nonchalantly. “And who are you supposed to run away with?”

 “With Logan.”

“Ah,” Richard said with an insincere smile. “ _Logan._ ”

Julian eyed him suspiciously. “Yes. Logan.”

“And I guess you’re taking Derek with you, too?”

“No,” Julian said reluctantly and with a sharp pang, he realized it would be monumentally hard to say goodbye to his best friend. “He has to stay.”

“Oh, that’s all very well,” Richard smiled coolly. “Then Rajesh will only have to kill Logan.”

The world tilted and Julian stepped backwards until his back hit the wall and he sagged against it. There was an odd buzzing sound, swelling in volume until his ears were ringing with it.

“What?”

“Yes,” Richard sighed, walking towards the wide-eyed dancer and tipping his face up by his chin. “Rajesh saw you and that blond one. Kissing. Very intimate. He felt very betrayed by it all, because he was _convinced_ he was the only one for you.”

“But I’m—” _in love_ , Julian wanted to say, _horribly and irrevocably in love_ —but he didn’t have the nerve, because Richard was looking at him with a murderous kind of satisfaction and he was scared—so fucking scared.

“—a whore,” Richard finished for him instead, his smirk mean and wide and terrible. “You’re a whore and I told him that, I told him exactly what you are, but he didn’t care at all. He kept blabbering on about being in love with you and _owning_ you,” he frowned minutely, “which he doesn’t, because _I_ do, but anyway, bottom-line is, he’s a very jealous man. A very _powerful_ , jealous man.”

Julian shook his head, incredulous and shocked. “You’re lying,” he breathed. “You’re a lying piece of _shit_.”

Richard’s face contorted in anger and Julian hissed when his fingers clenched around his arms again, pushing him against the wall, their faces so close their noses were almost touching. “You have to be careful, Cheshire. Why do you never _think_? Rajesh is a proud man and he doesn’t like other people touching his things. _You know this._ ”

Julian shook his head, wanted to object being called a _thing_ , but he could barely hold back his tears and he knew Richard was right and he knew Rajesh was the kind of man who would—who would—

“And Rajesh _will_ kill that stupid fool who has fallen in love with you—and you _know_ he will not hesitate.”

“No,” Julian whispered, “no no no—” Richard shook him and his teeth rattled as he was slammed into the wall.

The corners of Richard’s mouth twisted down in displeasure. “You’ve done it now, Cheshire.”

“I’ll get the Tweedles,” Julian said heatedly. “I’ll ask them to—”

“To what? You’ll ask them to do _what_?” Richard sneered. “To kill Rajesh first?”

“Yes,” Julian said, his voice wavering, tears threatening to overflow. “I’ll ask them to kill Rajesh first.”

Richard shook his head, squeezed Julian’s arms until his hands were all pins and needles, and he hissed in his ear, “You know that won’t work, you _know_ this. You want to save him? You want to save Logan? You know what to do, Julian. You know what you have to do.”

Maybe it was the hopelessness of the situation, the desperate fear that seized his heart and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed until it fractured, or maybe it was the prospect of losing Logan, who’d become his entire world in the short time they’d known each other, or maybe it was the fact that Richard called him by his real name like he was a real person, or maybe it was all of those things combined—but Julian _broke_. He felt the cracks start in his fractured heart, spiraling through his chest like a spider’s web, all the way to his buzzing head and his numb toes, and a sob forced its way from his throat and if it wasn’t for Richard holding him so tightly, he would’ve surely fallen to the floor.

“ _No_ ,” he moaned. “Don’t do this, Richard.” And Julian never begged, had never _ever_ lowered himself so much, but he would beg now, he was willing to beg for Logan. “Don’t make me do this.”

Richard raised one eyebrow and shrugged with a carelessness that had Julian automatically press closer to the wall. “If you don’t, Logan will die. It’s your choice, Cheshire. If he dies, it’ll be on you.”

Julian closed his eyes and sobbed when Richard’s fingers brushed his jaw.

“Come on, Chesh. Don’t you want him to live?”

He felt Richard lean closer and he moved to turn his face away, but Richard’s fingers clenched around his jaw and he opened his eyes to glare at the hungry dark eyes staring at him.

“Well?” Richard demanded. “Don’t you want him to live?”

“Yes,” Julian choked. “ _Of course_.”

“Well then. Remember Julian,” Richard whispered, “clients are everything. This is what you do best, Cheshire, this is what you were born to do. The show must go on.”

Richard smiled, a humorless and dark thing, and forced a painful kiss on the dancer’s mouth. Julian groaned when he felt teeth scrape over his lips, but he was trapped between the wall and Richard’s body and something in him broke into a million pieces when he realized he couldn’t escape, would never escape. Not Richard’s filthy touches, not Rajesh’s petty possessiveness, not this entire goddamn world. And while Richard’s hands moved up his shirt and his harsh kisses made his lips hurt, Julian closed his eyes, let hot tears trace scalding tracks over his cheeks and thought that this must be what hell was like.

 

 

It was hours later when Richard left, leaving Julian raw and naked and endlessly desperate. Curled up underneath the sheets of his bed, Julian stared despondently in space and wondered with a detached sense of curiosity what life was supposed to be worth if it would only be this. He pressed his face in the pillow, but when he sniffed he caught the scent of sweat and adrenaline and sex and he rolled away with a disgusted groan.

Everything hurt.

His lips were raw and his body was bruised and battered, but above all, demanding and vicious and seething, was his heart that had been damaged the most.

Would still be damaged more.

With every single fiber in his body protesting, he pushed himself up, letting the sheets roll off his skin as he moved slowly to the edge of the bed.

He picked out his clothes carefully. He knew Logan liked to see him in simple clothes, in jeans and a shirt or a vest, clothes that made him feel like a real, worthwhile person. Letting his fingers brush over the soft fabrics, he left them hanging on their hangers and yanked different jeans from the closet. After he was dressed in the uncomfortable leather, he shoved his feet carelessly in his boots, and sank down in front of his mirror.

Julian nearly did a double take at what he saw, wanting to cry all over again.

 _The show must go on,_ Richard had said.

So Julian ran a hand through his hair, bringing back some spring in his dark locks, and smeared some foundation over his pale face and the dark bruises underneath his glassy eyes. He leaned forward, until his chapped lips were nearly touching his traitorous reflection, and his eyes flickered when he whispered to himself.

“You can do this,” he said softly, his breath fogging up the glass. “You _have_ to do this. Logan will die if you don’t. I know your life sucks and I know it will get even worse now, but Logan gets first priority here. Logan is the most important now. And you need,” he choked up and he had to try so hard to hold back his tears, stubbornly refusing to ruin his carefully painted mask. “I _need_ Logan to _live_.”

 _The show must go on_ , Richard had said.

So Julian shoved the chair back and stood up, back straight and head held up high with a flawlessly fabricated pride. He breathed in and out ( _quick breath in, slow breath out, quickly in, slowly out_ ) until he was distracted from his bleeding heart by a dazzling dizziness.

_Logan needs to live._

_I_ need _Logan to live._

He turned around resolutely and just before he opened the door, Julian plastered on a wicked smile. Logan would surely see right through it, but that Cheshire smile was his only weapon, a defense mechanism he had never failed to fall back on—so he forced that hateful smile on his lips and let the door close behind him.

_The show must go on._

 

 

A weird kind of anticipation was wrapped around this entire day.

The minute Logan had stepped out of bed this morning he’d felt it creep up on him; this special kind of impatience and heavy excitement that preceded every big day of someone’s life.

But despite that it was a big day indeed, a day filled with the promise of a new and better beginning, Logan hadn’t quite expected for Julian to look so... so... _Moulin Rouge-esque._

He was every bit the nightclub dancer as he stood in front of him, clad in the leather clothes and laced up booths Logan had first seen him in, a distanced expression on his face and his shoulders pulled back proudly. Even in the privacy of Julian’s own bedroom Logan hesitated to step forward and embrace him (or even to just touch him, _anything_ to fracture those monumental walls the dancer had pulled up around him).

The minute he made to move forward Julian’s expression shuttered even more and it was the tiny, barely perceptible _flinch_ that had Logan hold back in surprise.

“Jules?”

Looking around, he noticed the lack of luggage.

For a diva like Julian, he’d expected _heaps_ of bags.

He swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly very dry.

“Were you planning to run away in leather?” he said slowly, trying to ignite the spark of their usual banter. “Very spy-ish.”

Julian closed his eyes, his jaw working and his hand clenched in tight fists, and when he opened them again, the soft sepia was harsh and unreadable. “I’m not leaving,” he said, his voice trembling ever so slightly, and it hit Logan how very, very _wrong_ this all felt.

“What do you mean, you’re not leaving?”

Julian raised his eyes to the ceiling for a second. “I mean I’m not _leaving_ ,” he repeated. “With... with you.”

Logan studied him for a moment, the momentary silence giving him the opportunity to calm his frantic heart.

_This is not really happening, right?_

“You’re fucking lying, Julian,” he said eventually. His gaze darted around the room. “Where the fuck is Richard, huh? Because I’m about to murder him, I swear to fucking God.”

Julian sighed and Logan thought he saw his perfect mask crack a little, thought he could spy a horrible anguish through the fissures in the concrete walls, but the moment passed to quickly for him to really see.

“Don’t bother, Logan,” Julian said, flicking his wrist casually. “It’s not Richard at all. It’s me. I wanted to practice my acting skills and I kind of nailed it, didn’t I? To be honest, Logan, the only thing this has all led to is me realizing what a brilliant fucking actor I am. But it’s cruel and petty and that’s exactly why I’m ending this now. I’m letting you go, Logan.”

_Please tell me this is not really happening._

“Acting,” Logan repeated dully. He felt like he was in an avalanche, sliding down an icy mountain with dazzling speed.

“Oh _God_ ,” Julian laughed, a terrible thing that sounded _nothing_ like his usual contagious laughter. “You’re _pathetic_. You really thought I _loved_ you?” He snorted contemptuously, a darkness in his gaze Logan had never seen before. “ _Me_? Love _you_? What makes you possibly think I could fall in love with someone like _you_? You have _nothing_ to offer me. Absolutely _nothing_.”

Everything felt so incredibly _wrong_. Julian’s smile was off and there was something in his expression that sent a shiver down Logan’s spine. Despite all of this, Julian’s words cut something deep and vital and _damn_ if it didn’t hurt.

His blissfully exciting future threatened to shatter and Logan could only stare in horror, a familiar self-loathing flaring up within.

(Didn’t he _promise_ himself not to lose any more important things?)

Julian huffed out another laugh. “I don’t love you,” he said again. “And I’m certainly not running away with you.”

Self-loathing suddenly morphing into an astonished fury, Logan narrowed his eyes and noticed with a sick satisfaction that Julian actually flinched at the murderous ferocity in them. “You’re not in love with me,” Logan repeated flatly, nothing in his voice exposing the storm of betrayal and disappointment that was raging within.

Julian snorted (his nose scrunching up in that stupid _adorable_ way) and shook his head, lips pressed tightly together.

“And you don’t want to leave. With me.”

Again, a slight shake of the head was all Logan received.

Logan gritted his teeth, his fingers curling up in tight fists, and did his best not to fall apart right then and there. He hurt all over.

And when Logan got hurt, he struck back. Viciously.

“You were just a whore all along, then,” he sneered and felt a twisted pleasure when Julian cringed, his eyes squeezing shut and his lips twitching down. “How much do I owe you?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Julian snapped, his voice breaking on the last word. He lifted his head and gave Logan a withering glare. “Just _go_. And _please_ don’t bother coming here again, because this act became exhausting a long time ago. You’re just—you’re just another distraction and I really, really can’t use more _fucking_ distractions.”

“You’re a fucking awful person, you know that?” Logan hissed.

His fists were itching for something to hit, but even now, even after everything Julian had said, the thought of hurting the dancer—still so very beautiful and _ethereal_ —filled him with disgust. He’d made a promise not to hurt Julian and with so many promises breaking already, he stubbornly wanted to keep this one intact.

So he shut his eyes for a few torturous moments, in which he desperately tried to control his heavy breathing, and when he opened them he shot Julian a hateful, revolted look that did nothing to lessen the agony in his heart.

Julian sighed, a long trembling breath, and blinked up at Logan with an unreadable expression. He didn’t look like he was going to say anything more, so Logan nodded resolutely, still not fully believing this was actually happening to him.

Love seemed to be one of the wonders in life Logan was destined to miss out on.

He scraped his throat and with a delicate, “fuck you, Julian. _Fuck you_ ,” he turned around. The door slammed shut behind him with a finality that reverberated through his bones, awakening the realization that _yes_ , this was _really and truly_ happening. His shoulders sagged and the dignity he’d been trying to maintain washed away, fleeing for the oncoming anguish and desperation, slamming into him wave after wave after wave.

And all he could think about was that he’d managed to lose not only another lover, but also the fucking love of his _fucking_ life, and Logan really wasn’t sure how he would ever forgive himself for this heartbreaking failure.

The unbridled, irrational anger thrumming through his veins was demanding privacy to explode, but Logan had not even turned the next corner of the dark corridor when he collided with someone. He cursed loudly, felt hands grab his arms to steady him, and when he looked up he stared right into Derek’s worried face.

He couldn’t help himself.

This was his friend, his best friend in the world, who knew everything about him, all his quirks and all of his worst and best moments. This was his best friend, who was his savior and his hero and the only person Logan could ever count on.

This was his best friend and Logan couldn’t help himself—he shattered.

Derek blinked, but only took a second to recuperate and he echoed Logan’s earlier curse, his hands clenching tighter around his arms as he pulled his friend towards his own room. Derek’s room wasn’t far from Julian’s and it wasn’t long before Logan was seated on the edge of Derek’s bed, hyperventilating, his fingers tangled in his hair.

“Logan?”

Derek kneeled in front of him and placed both hands on either side of Logan’s face.

“ _Logan._ ”

“Yes,” Logan said, his voice thick and raspy. He looked up and his face must’ve been a sight to see, because Derek raised his eyebrows and shook his head almost imperceptibly. “What?”

“You’re a mess, Lo,” Derek said, painfully honest as usual. “What the hell happened?”

“Julian fucking happened.”

Derek’s eyebrows nearly disappeared in his hairline. “While Julian does have a tendency to bring out the worst in people, I really thought _you_ at least would be the exception to the rule.”

“He broke up with me,” Logan said.

“He _what_?” Derek looked at him like he’d grown horns overnight, leaning backwards in surprise. “You’re lying.”

Logan glared at him through his tears. “ _Do I look like I’m fucking lying_?”

It took less than a second for Derek to look him over and decide that his best friend definitely wasn’t lying to him, and if that wasn’t worse enough, Derek’s expression softened into something dangerously close to pity and Logan wanted to hide forever.

“Are you sure he broke up with you?” Derek asked carefully, still sounding confused. “Julian really makes it a habit to be an annoying bitch sometimes, but—”

Logan stood up, nearly bowling over Derek, and paced through the room. “He wasn’t lying, okay? I don’t know what happened—I’m not—I’m not sure—” and within a few minutes, he’d relayed everything to Derek, stalking through the room with intensely violent steps, gesturing wildly in the air.

Afterwards, when he finally turned around to look at Derek, he found his friend sitting cross-legged on the floor, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting in his hands, staring up at him with wide, incredulous eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, when it was apparent Logan was done with his rant, awaiting Derek’s response with heavy breaths. “This is all so fucked up.”

“He’s a _fucking_ —”

“No!” Derek interrupted him, an angry and impatient frown on his face. He scrambled up, running his hands through his hair as he shook his head in seeming despair. “Don’t take it out on Julian, man.”

“Don’t take it out—” Logan bristled. “Didn’t you listen to _anything_ I just said?”

“Yes!” Derek snapped. “I heard you, loud and clear. And I’ve known Julian for over a year now and this doesn’t sound like him at all. He’s over the freaking moon for you, dude. He _loves_ you. He just—this is all so messed up, I can’t _believe_ how messed up this is.”

“The only one who’s messed up is Julian,” Logan replied flatly. He was still hurt, his heart bleeding and battered, and Logan was definitely one to hold a grudge so he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive Julian. Or himself, for that matter. For falling in love and screwing it up yet again.

Derek’s face fell and his eyes darkened. “It’s not Julian’s fault, man. He’s been trapped in this freaking nightmare for years, sold to all sorts of disgusting people he’s never even seen before. He hasn’t owned his body for five years. You’re completely justified in being angry, Logan, but don’t be angry with Jules. You _can’t_.”

 “So you’re taking his side?” Logan asked darkly.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” Derek snapped. He sighed, deflating a little, and reached out to lay his hands on Logan’s shoulders. He stared at him intensely. “Listen, Logan. Go home. Take your meds—no, don’t give me that goddamn irritated look— _take your meds_. Sleep a little. And when you come back tomorrow, you and Julian will talk, alright?”

Logan hesitated, his eyes flickering as he stared at Derek.

“ _Please_.”

Breaking away from Derek’s hands, he nodded, running his hands through his hair, dragging them over his face. “Alright.”

 “Yeah?”

He couldn’t stand Derek’s worried gaze, so Logan refused to meet his eyes, instead turning away and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He felt a sudden rush of exhaustion wash over him and thought that Derek’s advice to sleep would, at least, be wise to follow.

“Alright,” he breathed again.

“Make sure to come back tomorrow, okay?” Derek asked.

Logan nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m sure things will be alright, Lo,” Derek said, trying to sound reassuring.

Logan laughed grimly. “Things are never alright with me, D,” he murmured, defeated and tired and _hurt_ , goddamnit.

The look Derek gave him was something that cut into his already shattered chest and he couldn’t handle it— _really_ couldn’t handle the pity—so he said a hasty goodbye and fled the room.

This day seemed to be destined for disasters, however, because on his way out of the _Moulin Rouge_ he crashed into someone again and this time, they both ended up on the floor. Wildly embarrassed and his anger boiling dangerously, Logan swatted away the young man’s help and stood up on his own.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Logan glared at him with a heated ferocity and the man backed away until he hit the wall behind him.

“What is your problem, dude?” he asked defensively, his hands nervously picking on the sleeves of his ratty jacket.

“What the hell is _your_ problem?” Logan shot back instantly, having absolutely no patience left today. He shoved passed the man and opened the door to the streets, where the street lanterns allowed him a quick glimpse of wide skittish eyes and horribly dyed blond hair, before the door shut behind him and Logan finally escaped the oppressive atmosphere of the _Moulin Rouge_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your thoughts, so leave a comment below pretty pretty please?? Thanks for reading! ^^


	9. I Know In My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never claimed to be a perfect writer (who updates ON TIME) and I never claimed to be able to write perfect, solid, flawless plots--but please believe me when I say I tried ^^; 
> 
> Anyway--the beginning of the end. Hope you enjoy.

Logan knew love.

He had known love in all its shapes and all its qualities. He knew the ferocious, raging fire of it. He recognized the overwhelming force of a passion so fiery it pushed and tugged and pulled until he had no choice but to surrender. When Logan loved, he loved with a formidable and relentless intensity, because Logan was direct and did nothing halfway, sometimes drowning in so many different emotions it drove him mad.

(Derek had _always_ told him his heart was too big.)

Loving Julian came so easy and natural he hadn’t even known how much of him was invested until everything dropped away. His heart was like a trick hat, forever giving and giving and giving, his love bottomless and endless. There would always be room in his heart for loving Julian and so much room had already been spent doing exactly that, and he didn’t know what to do with all this left-over space now.

Most of all, if he was really honest with himself, he simply wanted to cut it all out. But Julian was a whirling wildfire, burning down entire forests in mere seconds, and cutting out everything Julian had touched would mean he’d bleed out instantly.

Above all, right there on top of all the wreckage he’d already created, was the simple irrefutable fact that he had broken his promise yet again. Because he’d lost someone important, someone hopelessly important, _yet again_. The dark foreboding feeling of failure was absolute, burning and reminding him of all the different times he’d broken that particular promise. Now hurt more than all those different times combined and he cursed Julian for being the treacherous whore that he was and he cursed himself for being the idiotic fool in love who’d believed in all of those days together.

He remembered Derek telling him this wasn’t all Julian’s fault, but he was overflowing with all kinds of bad emotions (he regretted not taking his meds now) and he couldn’t distinguish his anger, couldn’t redirect it even if he tried.

He also remembered Derek practically begging him to come back tomorrow, to come back and talk with Julian.

Pacing through his apartment, hands twisted in his hair and tears wet on his face, Logan felt something dark unfurl in his stomach and he reconsidered Derek’s last advice.

He should come back tomorrow.

He _would_.

And he’d be sure to _talk_ to Julian.

 

“What do you _mean_ Rajesh is out for Logan’s blood?” Derek hissed, grabbing Ethan’s collar and shoving him against the wall. “What do you _mean_?”

Evan frowned, his hand landing on Derek’s shoulder in a silent warning, his fingers squeezing just a little too hard.

Derek looked between the two of them, angry despair clear in his flushed cheeks and his bright eyes. “Tell me!”

Evan and Ethan shared a quick look and Derek could practically taste their trepidation in the air, making him want to vomit.

“Rajesh saw them,” Evan started, glancing at his brother for support.

“Saw them _kissing_ ,” Ethan elaborated.

Startled, Derek let go of Ethan, feeling Evan’s hand slip of his shoulder in response, and stared at them with wide, scared eyes.

“Rajesh saw them,” he repeated in a hushed whisper. His blood was ice-water that slammed through him mercilessly, spilling from his veins and _choking_ him. Rajesh had seen them _together_.

Evan nodded, moving to his brother and taking his hand. They stood there, a silent force in a whirlwind of disaster and Derek nearly screamed when he remembered something of critical importance.

“I told him to come back today,” he moaned. “I told Logan to come back and talk to Julian—I told him to come back and— _shit_ —”

“Rajesh will have him killed,” Ethan said, not a trace of doubt in his voice, fingers constricting around those of his brother.

“You have to call him,” Evan added. “Warn him to stay away.”

Thinking about telling Logan to stay away from a happiness he’d never seen on his best friend before hurt Derek, stung something vital and sensitive.

Thinking about Rajesh _killing_ Logan—

Well.

Thinking about _that_ uncoiled a bitter and disturbing thing inside of him and he growled murderously.

“I’ll stop him. I won’t allow it.” He dug out his phone from his pocket and dialed Logan’s number.

There was no answer (and of course there wasn’t, because when had things _ever_ gone easy?) and he cursed the world to hell and back.

“ _Fuck!_ ”

He looked at the Tweedles pleadingly. “What now? What do I do _now_?”

He turned around, walked a few paces, changed his mind and whirled back to the twins.

“What do I do?” he yelled, desperate and angry and boundlessly afraid.

Julian and Logan were as much a part of him as his arms or his lungs or his heart were. If he’d lost them he’d be shattered, lost without directions, left to drift aimlessly in the middle of a fucking ocean—and he would _kill_ before he’d allow that horrifying loss to ever happen.

It was that thought—that terrifying possibility of losing both his best friends—which grounded him most of all. He took a deep breath, clenched his hands into fists to hide the faint trembling, and looked at the twins resolutely.

“You two look for Rajesh and stop whatever he’s planning. Keep me updated about _everything_ that happens, whether you think it’s important or not.” He was already walking away when he heard Evan call out, his succinct voice not quite hiding the tremble of fear.

“And what the hell are you going to do while we might possibly risk our lives?”

“I’m going to find Julian,” Derek answered, his legs straining to reach the same pace as his heart. “And I’m going to tell him about this entire fucking mess.”

It occurred to Derek, as he turned the next corner and left the Tweedles behind him, that this particular mission might very well be equally as dangerous.

 

“I _know_!” Julian yelled, his fingers twisted in his hair, wildly pacing around his room.

Derek stared at him, leaning against the closed door with a wide-eyed expression on his face. Julian didn’t think Derek had ever seen him so stressed, so completely out of control. If he was very honest, he could no longer muster the energy to care. He was frayed at the edges, so immeasurably exhausted, emotionally and physically stretched and pulled and ripped to his absolute limits. His sanity was a frail thing, hanging by a thread that was as tattered and damaged as his heart.

He had never, never ever before, hurt so much as when he’d ended things with Logan yesterday. (Ended his entire world and all his build up dreams, was more like it.) He was still reeling with the aftershock, could still feel the burning embers eat at him from the inside out.

Derek kept staring at him, naked concern painted on his face as he repeated himself.

“Rajesh wants to kill Logan.” His voice was carefully measured and Julian knew Derek was holding himself together with difficulty, only doing a slightly better job at it than Julian himself.

Julian tore his hands from his hair and dragged them down his face, looking at Derek with unbridled panic in his eyes.

“Why do you think I said what I said yesterday?” There were barely repressed tears in his eyes and in his voice and he nearly choked on them. “Oh god oh god oh god—what do I do?”

In the face of this much grief and misery bundled up in one person, Derek was in front of him the next second, his hands a comforting weight on his shoulders.

“Jules,” he said, “Julian. Deep breaths, alright? Calm down, calm down, _please_ calm down.” Derek pushed him gently until Julian dropped on the edge of his bed. He sat down next to him and laid an arm around Julian’s slender shoulders, pulling him close. Julian leaned into him, his hands shaking and useless in his lap, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m killing him,” he said through gritted teeth, a sob wrenching from his throat. “I love him and I’m killing him. Oh my God oh my _God_ —”

Next to him, Derek breathed in deeply and shook his head resolutely. “You’re not killing him, Jules. Loving you is not a death-sentence. And Logan’s not going to get killed. We’re not going to let this happen, I won’t fucking _allow_ it.”

Julian clenched his teeth and doubled over, because there was this fierce and aching pain racing through his chest and his stomach, and another miserable sob rippled through the bedroom. Derek shushed him, his fingers buried into the dancer’s messy hair and soft skin as if he was physically trying to remove the torment.

“Jules, Jules, listen to me. The Tweedles are tracking Rajesh as we speak, alright? They just sent me a text, see? See this?” Derek held out his phone, but through his tears the words were foggy and unreadable and Julian shook his head. “They found him and they’re keeping an eye on him.”

“That won’t stop him,” Julian whispered. “You know that won’t stop him. Rajesh is vicious, Derek, he’s possessive as fuck and he will—he will— _murder_ —”

“ _No_ , shut the fuck up,” Derek snapped. “He won’t, alright? He _won’t_.” He covered his eyes with his free hand for a few seconds and Julian turned his head to stare at him, sniffling quietly and feeling utterly helpless and miserable.

What the hell was he supposed to _do_?

“Did you try to call him?” he asked. He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I can’t believe you told him to come back.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Derek retorted. “He was heartbroken.”

Julian huffed a breathy laugh, a dark and bitter sound. “Yes. Me too.”

He felt Derek’s gaze on him, but he refused to turn around, refused to see the pity in his friend’s eyes.

“You should check on Logan,” Julian said, eyes determinedly on the floor.

“I don’t know where he _is_.”

“Find him,” Julian snapped, his patience finally at its limit. “Find him and send him the fuck away from here.” He pressed his hands against his eyes until the blackness was dotted with stars and wondered what he’d ever done to be in this mess. Enough, probably. “Tell the Tweedles to send Rajesh to me, I’ll handle him.”

“Jules...”

“Just go, Derek. Go find Logan,” Julian said tiredly, glancing up at his friend who was staring at him in concern. “I’ll distract Rajesh. And in a few days everything will return to normal and it’ll be like nothing has ever happened.”

Like Logan hadn’t come back from the other end of the world and made him happier than he’d ever been. Like he had never been in love at all.

“Alright,” Derek said. He pulled Julian closer and Julian leaned in his embrace, wanting to make it last forever,  but after a few seconds Derek let him go and stood up from the bed with a heavy sigh. “Alright, Jules,” he said. “I’ll go find Logan.”

Julian nodded, holding his gaze until Derek turned around to walk out of his room. Without looking back, Derek reminded him, “And be careful, Julian. Please.”

“Sure,” Julian replied quietly. “Always.”

And watching Derek walk away, he saw his friend’s shoulders stiffen at the lie before he walked out of the door without a backwards glance.

 

The _Moulin Rouge_ was a strange place to be in the middle of the day. At night it was buzzing with life, emotions so high you could taste them in the air, but in the reality of daylight all those emotions fell flat and dry and everything that had once happened at night seemed fake and surreal.

Walking through the deserted corridors made Logan feel uncomfortable and that on top of his already messed up emotions created a humming sound that made his ears ring and his head spin.

He’d never been paranoid before—not even when he hadn’t taken his medications for days and days and he was left walking around with a permanent fire simmering in his chest—but he felt eyes burn in his back now. It made him glance over his shoulder every few seconds, feeling even more riled up when the only thing he saw were shadows into shadows and doors upon doors with no-one walking out of them.

There was no sound except for his own footsteps and he tried to temper them, tried to walk as quietly as he could, but once he realized what he was doing he only felt stupid and more of a psychiatric patient than ever.  He started wondering what the hell he was doing. What the _hell_ he was doing, still sacrificing so much effort and so much valuable energy for someone who had broken his heart so efficiently, shattered it into so many irreparable pieces.

Everything always boiled down to Julian.

Julian, with his starry eyes that held the universe. Julian, with his smile that had never failed to lit up his heart and his soul. Julian, with his full, delicious lips that felt so warm and welcome against his own. Julian, who’d laid naked and glowing and absolutely glorious underneath him.

Julian—Jules, _his_ Jules—who was not his any longer.

Impossibly, the pieces of his heart cracked further and he could feel the edges pierce him from the inside.

A soft creak behind him made him look over his shoulder immediately and he whirled around, his heart pounding in his throat when he noticed a shadow diving behind one of the curtains hanging from the walls.

Logan cleared his throat and called out.

“Hello?”

The darkness didn’t answer and nothing moved again, but Logan couldn’t shake off the feeling something was there, so it took a few seconds before he dared to turn around again. He was beginning to seriously reconsider ever coming here—whether he and Julian had something to discuss or not—because the dark and silent corridors were freaking him out.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed and he ran his hands through his hair, picking up his pace and trying to remember if he had to turn left or right at the next corner. A suffocating feeling of foreboding crept through him as he continued walking and even though his speed didn’t lessen, he felt like he was moving through quicksand, his feet dragging and slowing him down.

Despite having actually had nightmares about speaking to Julian, at least he would feel safer in the dancer’s wildfire presence than he did here in the shady hallways deep in the heart of the _Moulin Rouge_.

He reached the corner and was so focused on anything coming up from behind him that he jumped wildly when he collided with someone. A burst of adrenalin made his breath hitch in his throat, constricting his trachea and preventing him from shouting out in startled fear. His hand came up to clench at the front of his shirt, where he could feel his heart pounding furiously against his ribcage and he pressed up against the wall so he had something to lean against. Green eyes huge and radiating an embarrassing amount of fear, he stared right up into an icy blue gaze.

“Fuck.”

The voice was infuriatingly familiar and Logan let out his breath in a long and heavy sigh, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the wall. He repeated the sentiment heartily.

“ _Fuck_.”

Ethan reached out for him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and tugging until Logan opened his eyes again. Evan sat up from where he’d fallen on the floor, staring at Logan with wide eyes.

“Logan.”

Holding up a hand, Logan took one look at them and closed his eyes again, trying to control his heavy breathing.

“One moment. You just killed me,” he gasped. “ _Fuck_ , this is a scary freaking nightclub.” He glanced at the twins, who were staring at him with a strange expression. “ _You’re_ freaking scary.”

Evan grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled himself up. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Logan snapped. “You two just gave me a fucking _heart attack_.”

The Tweedles didn’t seem to hear him. “Logan, we have to tell you something.”

“Were you two just behind me?” Logan glanced over his shoulder, where the corridor was still dark and suspiciously empty. Anger raced through his veins right up to his head. “Are you _following_ me?”

Ethan raised his eyebrows and shook his head violently. “No no, are you telling us someone’s following you?”

He sounded so alarmed, his entire stance giving away a fear Logan had never seen on either of the twins before, and Logan was distracted instantly. He studied the brothers a few seconds before asking, slowly and carefully, “Am I missing something?”

Evan sighed and looked to his brother, a desperate plea for support on his face and, if anything, it made Logan’s hair stand on end.

“You remember Rajesh?” Ethan asked.

Logan arched an eyebrow. “What the hell is a Rajesh.”

“ _Who_ ,” Evan said hurriedly and Logan understood this wasn’t the moment for sarcasm, because it sailed right over their heads. “Rajesh is a _man_ , that man you saw sitting at the bar ages ago, when you came in with Julian and you two obviously had sex for the first time—”

“And you didn’t like the way he was looking at Julian—you two were planning to leave, remember that?”

Of course he remembered _that_. There was a vicious bitterness inside of him that prevented him from forgetting that possible future.

Logan nodded, deciding to keep his smart mouth shut because the twins looked stressed enough without it.

“I remember.”

“ _That’s_ Rajesh,” Ethan said.

When nothing followed and the Tweedles stared at him like he would catch on without more hints, Logan tilted his head expectantly, raising his eyebrows. “And?”

“Oh,” Ethan said, glancing nervously at his brother, who finally told him the clue of the entire story.

“He wants you dead.”

There was ice in his blood. Pure, painfully cold ice with edges so sharp he could feel them cut through his flesh.

“ _What?_ ”

“He’s jealous,” Evan elaborated, stumbling over the words. “He’s jealous and he wants Cheshire for himself and he wants you dead.”

“We were tracking him, but we lost him,” Ethan added. “We’re so glad we found you, we have to get you out.”

They each grabbed an arm and started to lead Logan down another corridor, but the ice in his blood had melted and his knees almost surrendered to the sudden weight added to his heart, because Rajesh had threatened to _kill_ him and that meant—that meant—

“I have to see Julian,” he announced, pushing his heels in the floor and yanking his arms free.

The Tweedles turned as one, staring at him with their unnervingly arctic eyes.

“I have to see Julian,” Logan repeated, an entire universe of puzzles solved at once and he could see why Julian had done what he did. He was not an idiot. Well. Maybe he was an idiot, an idiot hopelessly in love, and he would’ve done exactly the same thing if it would be Julian’s life on the line.

“ _No_ ,” Ethan said. “We have to get you out of this freaking building.”

“Would Rajesh kill Julian?” Logan demanded.

They hesitated.

“No...” Evan eventually admitted.

“So I’ll be safe with him, right?”

Evan and Ethan glanced at each other, still hesitating.

“ _Right_?” Logan asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

“He might have a point,” Evan whispered.

“Yeah,” Ethan replied.

“Alright.”

“But we have to find Rajesh,” Ethan said, frowning. “Derek will kill us if he finds out we lost track of him.”

“And Rajesh might actually kill Logan _because_ we’ve lost track of him,” Evan muttered, unusually dark.

Logan threw up his arms, feeling desperate and frustrated with this entire situation. “Right here. I can hear you.”

They ignored him completely and Evan pointed to the corridor Logan had just walked through. “If you wanted to go to Julian, you were going the wrong direction anyway.”

Logan frowned.

Oh. That was just wonderful.

Logan pressed his lips together and stared at the long corridor he was supposed to walk through again. He refused to acknowledge the twitch he felt in his chest.

Ethan nudged Logan’s back. “Take the first right and then you’ll find Cheshire’s room no problem. You’ll be there in a few minutes. Stay there, alright? We’ll text Derek and we’ll find Rajesh—”

“And tomorrow we will all laugh at how stupid this entire situation is,” Evan finished with a sigh.

“I will actually hit you in the face if you’ll ever laugh about this fucking mess,” Logan muttered as he turned around. When he’d taken two steps, one of the twins called out to him.

“Logan?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Logan rolled his eyes and continued his way to Julian’s room. “Yes yes. Go get that Rajesh person.”

Behind him, he heard two pairs of feet walk in a different direction and he quickened his own pace, a desperate yearning tearing through his chest, shouting at him to see Julian _now_. To set things right between them.

He’d not even been walking for a full minute—the Tweedles no longer audible behind him—when the curtains at his right shifted. Logan’s body moved before his mind caught up, pure instinct and reflexes making him spin around. His mind caught up with a sudden, deafening silence and time screeched to a stop when the sparse light in the corridor glinted off the silver of the gun directed at his heart. He almost choked on his next breath, his frantic eyes darting from the weapon to the face behind it, and he recognized the dark glare staring back at him with a jolt.

Rajesh smiled, his eyes savage and crazed and roaming over Logan with a murderous ferocity. His hands tightened around the gun and Logan let out a hushed breath, his heart a wild thing in his chest.

“ _Shit_.”

 

His phone would break by the time this torturous day was over, Julian was sure of it, but it was impossible for him to relax the tight grip he had around the device. He was pacing through his room again, every fiber of his entire body on edge, every single muscle twitching with restlessness and an impatience stronger than fire burning through his veins.

Logan was still out there.

Logan was somewhere in the _Moulin Rouge_ and Rajesh was out to kill him and Julian knew, knew in his heart, that the latter would not stop until the former was eliminated and he couldn’t—he couldn’t _breathe_ —

Muscles actually cramping with tension, Julian heaved a shaky sigh and fell down onto the edge of his mattress, dropping his face in his hands and focusing on controlling his erratic breathing.

 _In and out, in and out, in and out_ just as Logan had taught him one stormy night when he’d showed up unannounced and Logan had welcomed him with open arms and a heart so warm and all-compassing it had solidified Julian’s love for him.

Thinking about Logan—his honest smile and his green eyes and his long fingers that could circle Julian’s wrists all the way around—couldn’t help him relax and he jumped automatically in what Derek habitually called his “drama-queen”mode, but he couldn’t care. He couldn’t care, because his entire being was captivated by the terrifying possibility of Logan getting shot by Rajesh and it made his blood run ice-cold by the thought that the one person he ever loved, the one person that had stolen his heart so absolutely and completely, was in danger of being killed.

What the hell was he doing in here letting Logan’s future depend on people other than him?

Julian raised his head and dragged his hands down his face. “What the hell am I doing?” he whispered to the empty room. “What the _hell_ am I doing?”

So he stood up determinedly, squared his shoulders and straightened his back, preparing himself for the worst, opened the door—and the entire world grinded to an instant stop, the floor falling from under his feet and opening up to terrifying memories.

The boy on the other side of the door widened his eyes when the dancer skidded to a stop in front of him, his fist still raised in an aborted movement to knock on the door, but after a split second of surprise his face cracked into a horribly familiar smile.

“Julian,” he breathed.

Julian pushed down a desperate sob and tried to say something, tried to _move_ , but his mind traveled years back and he felt the other boy’s hands all over him again, remembered the vicious defeat of their short fight and the agonizing pain that had followed—and he felt torn and ripped apart all over again.

His breath left him in a short huff and it was with great effort that he resumed his breathing again.

_No no no no no—_

“No...” he whispered, backing up a few steps as the other boy stepped forward.

“We have unfinished business, Julian,” the boy said, still smiling.

“Adam,” Julian rasped, wishing he had the courage to do something other than back away, but his knees were threatening to buckle and he was trembling all over and he couldn’t _think_. “Adam, _get away from me_.”

Adam’s pale blond hair fell across his forehead and his dark eyes burned with a malicious light. He walked forward, his hands reaching out and Julian couldn’t stifle the next sob.

“But why?” Adam asked and his smile widened as he closed in on Julian. “Let’s continue our dance, sweet Cheshire.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, I would like to hear your thoughts about this.   
> Thanks for sticking around and thanks for reading!


	10. There’s Only Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeee, I told you I wanted to finish this? ^^; I'm so sorry, it's been forever :(  
> I'm not 100% happy with how the chapter turned out, but I figured it's better than nothing (right...?) so I hope you will like it anyway :)

A gunshot cracked through the silent halls of the _Moulin Rouge_ and Derek flinched as if it was a whip on his back instead. Maybe it was. It sure as hell felt like it. Without a second thought, he whirled around and started running towards the sound. A frenzied worry crashed through him, the familiar kind specially reserved for only two people in the world, and it filled him until it spilled from his lips in a frantic shout.

“Logan!”

He sprinted through the corridors he’d come to call his home after all these months, the hallways and hidden corridors and inconspicuous doors as familiar as the back of his hand. There was another gunshot, harsh and loud and terrifying, and his voice broke as he called out again.

“ _Logan!_ ”

When he finally reached the corridor hell seemed to have relocated, he stumbled to a stop and took a split moment to take in the two figures on the floor. They were locked in a violent embrace, rolling over the floor, all legs and arms and savage movements and vicious growls. Derek could pick out his friend easily, would recognize him in the darkest shadows in the blackest of nights, and his heart picked up its pace.

“ _No_ ,” he growled and he plunged into the fight.

Between the three of them, Logan and Derek were the youngest and the fittest and the strongest by far, not even taking into account the fact they outnumbered Rajesh.

Unfortunately—between the three of them, Rajesh was in the possession of a gun and a madness that knew no limits and was not to be reasoned with. He sat up, yelling and scrambling backwards, away from the two friends, his weapon directed toward Logan and Derek.

“ _Stay right there_ ,” Rajesh yelled, aiming the weapon back and forth between Logan and Derek.

Derek swallowed and shifted closer to Logan, who was trembling and wide-eyed and reaching out to grip Derek’s arm in a vice-like hold. In the background, light years away from this mess, Derek heard the faint sounds of the wild music in the dancing halls, and he realized with a sudden and cold terror that there would be no help coming. There was no one who would be able to hear them. There was no one who would even miss them, since both Derek and Julian had taken this night off in a vain hope to get their shit sorted out.

“Stay right there,” Rajesh repeated in a hushed whisper. Derek could see sweat trailing down his temples, but his hands were steady around the gun and the deadly weapon never aimed anywhere else than at either Derek’s or Logan’s chest.

“Rajesh,” Derek said, voice thick with fear. He’d seen a lot in the past few months working here, but never had he expected to face the business end of a gun, and he was not ashamed to admit he was _terrified_. “Rajesh, don’t do this.”

Rajesh’s eyes swiveled from Logan to him and they narrowed to dark slits. “He’s mine. He’s _mine_ and I can’t—I can’t _stand_ —I _can’t share._ I’m not going to _share_ —not with _you_ —”

Derek knew right then and there that there was a past behind Rajesh’s actions he would never know about and would never _want_ to know about. But he recognized crazy, he’d stared in the face of crazy before, and he knew as well as anyone there was no reasoning with this kind of frantic behavior.

When he moved slightly to the side his fingers touched something warm and sticky and he glanced sideways. Logan gazed back steadily, meeting Derek’s eyes for a short moment before he shook his head minutely, silently telling him _not now_ —but it was with difficulty that Derek turned back to Rajesh, worry a leaden weight in his stomach.

Rajesh cocked the gun.

“He’s in his room, right?”

Logan heaved a shaky breath, his fingers tightening around Derek’s arm, and Derek shook his head.

Rajesh tilted his head and leaned back against the wall. “He is,” he stated calmly, seeing right through Derek’s pathetic excuse of a lie. “That’s where I sent him,” Rajesh breathed and Derek frowned, not understanding. “Of course he is. Waiting. Always waiting for me. And I sent him there.”

Derek swallowed and moved nothing except for his eyes, following the gun as Rajesh shifted its aim from him to Logan. In his peripheral vision he saw Logan sag a little and he remembered the blood on his fingers and the smell of copper in the air and he was so _scared_.

_Please please please don’t let this kill us. Please please please—_

“I’m so sorry for this,” Rajesh said and he sounded sincere. “I just... I don’t like people touching my things. I just want him to stay with me.”

His finger twitched around the trigger of his gun—

The third gunshot of that night splintered the heavy air in sharp, jagged pieces.

 

 

“What do you want from me?”Julian asked, trying to sound brave and strong even when he was endlessly afraid. He desperately wished for Derek and Logan to be here, feeling lost without their protecting strength.

He moved back until he no longer could and with his back against the wall and Adam right in front of him he felt efficiently trapped.

“You have to listen, Julian,” Adam said, sounding frantic and truly crazy. “You have to listen to me.” He reached out and laid his hands on Julian’s shoulders, burying his fingers in soft skin.

Julian had trouble breathing, his eyes wide and terrified as he stared into a face that had visited his most hellish nightmares for almost two years. He was swimming in a bottomless black ocean, he was struggling to stay above water and he was so scared of drowning.

Adam sighed, lifting one hand to gently brush some stray hairs from Julian’s face. Julian pulled his head back, but Adam only leaned closer and the smell of his breath almost made him gag.

“It’s been so long,” Adam whispered and the words were vicious and relentless reminders that cut through Julian’s skin. “Almost two years now...” Adam seemed to gather his thoughts and he set his jaw, his eyes hardening. “You have to listen,” he repeated. “He sent me here, he sent me here to get you. For him. But... I’m not...” Adam’s expression softened for a split second before twisting into something dark and menacing. “I’m not going to share _you_. I won’t.”

Julian squeezed his eyes shut, fear and anger rippling through him in freezing, foaming waves and he didn’t understand, didn’t even understand what Adam was _saying_.

“What are you talking about?” he hissed, peeking through his lashes, giving Adam a narrow-eyed glare. “What are you even _talking_ about?”

Adam blinked at him, falling silent for a few seconds before shaking his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter anyway. Never mind, Julian. Never mind. You’ll notice. Before you know we’ll be together. It’ll be just us before you know it, my love. You have nothing to fear.”

 _I have everything to fear. I have_ everything _to_ fucking _fear._

And Julian was done being scared. Done done done.

He pushed against Adam’s arms, seething. “Do _not_ call me that. Do not call me _your love_ . I am _not your fucking_ _love_.”

Adam narrowed his eyes, his expression dark and dangerous and impossibly insane. He leaned forward and Julian, having nowhere to go with the wall behind him and Adam in front of him, felt his breath on his face and his lips touch his ear as Adam whispered: “I can call you everything I fucking want, _love_.”

Julian’s fingers buried in Adam’s arms as he tried to push the bigger man away, but Adam was stronger and angry and possessed by a mad infatuation Julian had no chance to win from.

“ _No_ —” Julian’s protest got cut off when Adam pushed his lips against his mouth and he cried out in pain when Adam pulled back and slapped his face.

“You will listen to me,” Adam snapped, yanking something from his belt and Julian groaned in disbelief when he saw what it was.

A knife, a knife, he had a _fucking_ knife?

Adam grabbed Julian’s hair with his free hand and slammed him back against the wall. “You will shut up and listen to me now, my love.”

But Julian’s patience had reached its end and he was finished with listening to a madman, finished with being treated like trash and he refused— _refused_ —to _listen_ to his rapist. So he grabbed Adam’s arms and used all the strength in him—all the strength he’d built up from dancing all evenings and _pleasing_ all nights—to force him away.

Surprised by this sudden ferocity, Adam backed away a few inches and encouraged by this, Julian pushed through, hope and adrenalin burning holes through his heart, almost convincing him he could win this one.

Almost.

Adam’s eyes glittered with rage and with a low growl that sounded downright _feral_ , he lifted the knife and _pierced_ the blade through the palm of Julian’s hand straight into the wall behind him and god oh god _oh god oh god_

that

_hur_ _t_

A ragged scream tore itself from Julian’s throat and he sagged a little where he stood, the muscles in his body coiling and uncoiling when the white hot rush of pain-fueled adrenaline seared through his veins.

He was pinned to the wall— _pinned_ to the wall like he’d been pinned to the bed all that time ago, but instead of Adam’s strong hands around his wrists it was a knife now— _pinned_ to the _fucking_ wall with a _fucking_ knife—and before he knew it Julian was _screaming_ at Adam. Screaming for Adam to _let him the fuck go_ and hurling all kinds of profanities at him, insulting him for everything he could imagine and more and—

“ _Shut up!_ ” Adam yelled, one hand clasping over Julian’s mouth and nose, strong fingers forcing his jaw shut, the other hand going around Julian’s throat and _squeezing_. “Shutupshutupshutup—”

Julian’s eyes grew wide, the explosion of panic in his chest only second in intensity compared to the sudden and terrifying lack of air, and he bucked underneath Adam’s tight grip.

“No no no, not this time, you’re not getting away this time,” Adam chanted hoarsely, and without taking the knife back, he drove his knee in Julian’s stomach and threw the slender dancer forcefully on the floor.

 

 

Rajesh fell forward with a cry, his gun slipping from his hands and sliding over the floor towards Logan. Logan looked up wildly, feeling an immense relief at seeing the twins skidding to a halt right next to Derek and him. He stared at the gun in Evan’s hand with wide eyes, glancing back to Rajesh, who was curled up, moaning as he clenched his bleeding shoulder.

“ _Shit_ ,” Derek breathed.

Logan reeled back when Richard stepped in the corridor, his face dark and menacing. “What the _fuck_ is going on here?” he yelled, his black eyes darting from the Tweedles, to Logan and Derek sitting next to each other, and finally to Rajesh, who lay incapacitated and bleeding on the floor.

Evan snuck his gun in his back pocket, directing a meaningful look at Logan, and Logan quickly snagged Rajesh’s gun from the floor and shoved it underneath the waistband of his jeans, the metal cold against his bare back. He glanced at Derek, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

“I asked you a question,” Richard asked, his voice sharp and menacing.

The twins exploded in a burst of motion and sound, chattering away with grand gestures as they tried to explain to Richard why his favorite customer was bleeding out in his nightclub.

“You have to get to Julian,” Derek whispered and Logan frowned at him. “He said something about _‘I sent him there’_ and I have this feeling...” his gaze flitted to Rajesh and back and he looked afraid, more afraid than Logan had ever seen him before.

Logan stared in his wide eyes and a shiver ran down his spine.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Lo,” Derek said. “Go to Jules.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Even the slightest hint of threat toward Julian was enough to send an adrenalin-fueled anger through his veins and Logan scrambled up instantly. As inconspicuous as possible, not wanting to attract Richard’s attention, he sneaked out of the corridor and only started running when he was completely alone. With his heart in his throat and fear still coursing through his body, he’d completely forgotten the reason why he wasn’t supposed to be so worried about Julian—

_(“You’re pathetic,” he’d said.)_

—why he shouldn’t _love_ him so fiercely as he did—

_(“I don’t love you,” he’d said, with that horrible, sad laugh that had looked so wrong on his face.)_

—and all he could think was _be safe, please be safe please be safe please be safe_ , because he didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if something irreparable happened to Julian.

When he finally reached the corridor Julian’s room was in he slowed his pace, not because he was out of breath (and if he was it would be for completely different reasons than running), but because he could feel the gun pressing in his back and there was a stinging pain in his side that traveled through his entire body and the gunshots from earlier still echoed through his head and _god oh god oh god, this is so fucked up_ —

He stopped walking, pressed his hands against his temples and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to breathe _in_ and breathe _out_ , all in gentle lulling waves, until his lungs obeyed his mind again and his heart wasn’t thumping so violently against his ribs.

“Alright,” he whispered. “Alright, alright, alright.”

 _Julian_.

His entire world shifted until it narrowed down on the brunet dancer with the starry eyes and the catty smile and something in him clicked into place.

He was supposed to be with Julian.

The yearning desire burned somewhere deep in his chest, his stomach clenching and his blood singing until it was almost physically painful. He needed to see Julian, _needed_ to see if he was alright.

Somewhere, a couple of doors removed from where he stood, something heavy slammed into a wall and it was followed by a pained, muffled cry—and time jerked to a violent stop.

_Julian._

He would recognize Julian’s voice everywhere, had heard it every day for the last few weeks, had listened to it in his dreams and in soothing, glorious memories, until the sound had settled in his heart and mind and—

_(“...pathetic,” he’d whispered.)_

—and he would know that voice anywhere.

And he recognized pain when he heard it.

He forced his legs into a sprint and when he got to the room he threw the door open without hesitation, which wasn’t even locked, and skidded to a standstill.

Julian’s eyes were the first thing he saw, as if they were the moon and he was the sea, forever tied to its light (pulling away but always coming back). They were wide and scared, honey color glistening with the intensity of his emotions. The next thing Logan saw was, inevitably, the boy who was standing over the fallen dancer. A boy who, Logan realized with a jolt, he recognized from the day before, having collided with him in his hasty retreat from the _Moulin Rouge_.

The boy raked one of his hands through his white-blond hair and growled. His eyes narrowed when he looked Logan over.

“You again,” he murmured.

Logan’s eyes darted from the boy to Julian, who was on the floor and pressed as closely to the wall as possible. He was a mess. There was blood everywhere; in his hair and dripping from his nose, soaking his clothes and seeping through his fingers from where he had his hand pressed against his stomach. Julian’s lips were a raw pink against the paleness of his face, there were finger-shaped bruises around both his wrists and his throat, and it made Logan’s blood boil.

“He told me you would be trouble,” the boy muttered, turning around to face Logan. The hand that was previously hidden from Logan’s sight twitched and only now did Logan see the knife clenched between his fingers—the light reflecting off the blade, making the blood on the metal shine a morbid red.

Logan’s breath left him in a rush and he stepped closer, brought to a stop when the boy lifted his arm, pointing the knife at him in a clear threat.

From the floor, Julian muttered a curse and he tried to push himself up with one hand. His body gave up on him and he fell back against the wall with a pained groan.

“ _Adam_ ,” he said shakily, tearing his eyes away from Logan to stare at Adam. “Adam, let him go. He’s got nothing to do with this. _Let him go_.”

_(“I’m letting you go,” he’d said.)_

(And only now did Logan fully realize all of it had been a lie all along.)

Adam’s eyes swiveled back to the boy at his feet on the floor and he stared at the dancer for a few seconds, his eyes softening a little. Julian glared back at him, too exhausted and hurt to stand up, but the fire in his eyes not any less because of it. Adam shook his head. “This wasn’t supposed to go like this, you weren’t supposed to get hurt like this,” he whispered.

Julian’s nose wrinkled in disdain but it didn’t seem like he wanted to waste energy replying to that, because he turned to Logan next. Logan, who was standing in absolute shock, staring at the blood dripping from Julian’s one mangled hand, which he could see clearly now that the dancer was half turned towards him.

“Logan.”

Logan’s gaze snapped to Julian’s eyes and his heart dropped at the barely repressed panic he saw in there. The dancer was shaking and Logan recognized the terror in his wide eyes, recognized it from days and days back, when Julian woke up next to him trembling and crying, or even further back, when Julian had first confided in him and told him all about the rape.

Looking back at the boy— _Adam_ —all the puzzle pieces fell into place and every emotion dropped away except for one.

 _Fury_.

Fury as he had never felt before. Burning in his veins, crackling through his chest and he couldn’t _think_.

(He was seventeen again and his father was grounding him for dating his colleague’s son and all Logan heard was _you’re worthless worthless worthless_ and all he could feel was _anger anger anger_ until he saw red and nothing else, and when the haze cleared his room was in shambles and the Senator sported a bloody nose and a hatred and disgust in his eyes that Logan would never unsee ever again.)

“ _I’m going to kill you_ ,” he growled. “I’m going to _fucking_ kill you.”

Adam tilted his head and assessed Logan as one would a bull about to attack. “You won’t,” he said calmly, self-assured.

On the other side of the room, Julian leaned the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes for a few seconds. He looked close to passing out and Logan’s worry for him multiplied, especially with the blood coating the surface of the floor and seemingly every inch of Julian himself.

Adam’s dark eyes flitted briefly to Logan before he crouched in front of Julian. Logan took a step forward, but Adam clenched the knife tighter in his fist and it was a silent warning, a silent threat to not come any closer. But when Adam reached out and took Julian’s chin in his hand, lifting the dancer’s face even when Julian scrunched up his nose and pressed closer to the wall in disgust, Logan decided that it had gone on long enough now.

It would finish here.

So Logan muttered a curse, ignored the sharp sting in his side as he tensed up, and _moved_.

 

 

Julian’s hand had been swallowed whole by hot flames whose tongs licked painfully against the raw edges of his wound and his entire body hurt from the strain put upon it, but he was watching the fight play out with his heart beating in his throat.

One day a while ago Logan had told him he’d taken up fighting lessons as a kid, mainly krav maga, and he had continued following classes well into his teenage years. As Julian watched him move, fluid and confident and without hesitation, he could picture it clearly. It made the mad dash of instant worry when Logan had first entered the room lessen a little, a slight shimmer of hope growing stronger instead.

Logan managed to get close to Adam without impaling himself on that fucking awful knife and with one fluent movement brought himself inside Adam’s reach, jamming his elbow in the lunatic’s chest and knocking him on the ground. Adam lost his grip on the knife and the metal screeched over the wood on the floor as it clattered down.

That was where Logan’s short burst of luck stopped.

Adam yelled and reached out, hooking his arms around Logan’s legs and throwing the blond on the ground. Logan screamed out when he fell on his side and Julian moaned a curse when he saw the blood on the floor, smeared out like finger paint on bare canvas.

“ _Logan_.”

He tried to move, tried to get up, but his hand was burning and his body was tingling with a never ending pain and Logan Logan Logan— _Logan was losing this fight_.

The realization that they were all going to die—right here in the _Moulin Rouge_ , right here in the one place Julian wanted to leave with all his heart—hit him hard and sudden. Fear and adrenaline pushing him on, he managed to heave himself upright with a pained groan, managed to get on his hands and knees and he crawled toward the knife lying abandoned on the floor.

 _I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I_ _**hate you for this you fucking asshole—** _

Adam and Logan were still wrestling, Adam seeming to get the upper hand with his body unhurt and his mind obsessed and focused on this one horrific need. And Julian was not about to sit idly by while the man he loved was taking the beating of his life, so despite his injuries and despite how very frightened he was, he clenched his fingers around the knife and _struck_.

Adam yelled when the knife sliced through the muscles of his thigh and he let go of Logan in order to yank the knife out of his flesh and to try and stem the resulting blood flow. His dark eyes found Julian and he hissed a curse, betrayed and hurt and mad with frustration.

“I will get you for this,” he promised, his voice low and dangerous.

Julian sat back, wide eyes looking for Logan and finding immediate reassurance when they locked gazes.

Logan used Adam's distraction to scramble back toward Julian, his bloodied hand grabbing the dancer's sleeve and holding on.

Adam wheezed from where he was bent over, the knife in his hand trembling, and oh fuck oh fuck _oh fuck—_

He had provided Adam with a weapon once more and _fuck_ , what were they going to do now? Scared, Julian pressed closer to Logan's side, feeling a little safer with Logan's strong body against his own. When he reached out to touch Logan's back, his fingertips brushed over cool metal and he froze, touching the outline of what was obviously a _gun_ and he buried his fingers in the back of Logan's shirt, twisting the material as all the air left his lungs in a shaky exhale.

“ _Logan_.”

Logan stiffened, his head snapping around to look at Julian with wide eyes and Julian knew instantly that Logan had completely forgotten about the weapon stashed in the back of his jeans. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt he needed to smack Logan on his head for forgetting something so _crucial_ , but before that thought could form into something more concrete, Adam twitched and made to move forward, and the sickening fear crashed back into place.

Adam hauled himself to his feet and towering over them he looked like a nightmare come to life, blood streaming down his leg and covering both his hands and the knife, the madness in his eyes complete and terrifying. With a strangled yell he threw himself forward, knife directed forward, any control fading quickly in the face of so much frustration and obsession.

Julian hissed and leaned against Logan in an unconscious search for protection, but before Adam could step any closer, Logan yanked the gun from the waistband of his jeans and pointed it to their attacker.

“Don't even _think_ about coming any closer,” Logan said, voice hoarse but filled with threatening danger.

“You gonna shoot me now?” Adam growled, limping closer despite the gun leveled at his head. “You don't have the _guts_.”

“You have no ideawhat I'm capable of,” Logan said, narrowing eyes the only indication of his rising anger.

Adam snorted. “Right.” And he threw himself on them, knife gleaming in the light, crying out in pain when Logan pulled the trigger and the bullet went right through his arm. Adam almost fell on them, knocking Julian to the wall and on the ground and it _hurt—_ his head banging to the floor and his hand trapped underneath his body—and Julian's scream blended in with the gun going off again, the deafening sound slamming through the room and leaving a crushing silence behind that rang high and loud in Julian's ears.

His own heaving breaths were the only thing he could hear, Adam's unmoving body the only thing he could see, the steadily growing pool of blood the only thing he could smell, and he couldn't breathe he couldn't _breathe—_

Somewhere, a different melody filtered through the awful ringing and the wheezing sound of his labored breaths, and it sounded like peace, it sounded like comfort, it sounded like _safety_.

 _Open your eyes, stay with me Julian, I'm so sorry, keep your eyes open, stay awake, don't do this to me, please don't do this to me Jules,_ _you're so important to me,_ _do you have any idea how important you are to me? Jules, stay with me, are you with me, are you_

“ _..._ with me?”

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was, thankfully, not Adam's body, nor the blood flooding his bedroom—it were wide, green eyes, and Logan's pale face, brows drawn together with worry.

“Answer me, Jules.”

Bloody and battered and weary, as if there was an ongoing war and they were part of the losing army, Logan looked like a beautiful avenging angel and Julian had never felt quite so safe before. Somewhere in the chaos of his mind he was vaguely aware of the door opening and Derek's voice demanding explanations, but he had eyes only for Logan, trying very hard to block out anything other than this beautiful man who he loved so very much. He reached out with his good hand, something clicking into place when Logan's fingers threaded through his own, and his world narrowed down to just the two of them. In that sweet bliss-filled moment, there was only them, and it felt like peace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and thanks for sticking around, I'd love to read your comments/reviews! ^^


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